Sea of Trees

Imagine this,

A forest;

Gnarled floors,

Fallen branches, 

stillness that haunts the ear.

Among this place,

Demons roam.

This forest is rife with legend.

Older than the western haunted houses,

I'd taken for granted.

Her beauty is slow and painful,

But the peace she has, cradles the dead,

Gives them their last breath of life.

I walk this forest,

A tourist.

She knows my kind,

The kind who convince themselves

They understand death without being dead.

She moves her branches, 

and let's me crush my foot on her earth.

She lets me venture deeper into her twisted beauty.

And me, thinking that it will be all anticipation

And hints of those who have passed on,

Mosey with elation.

Then;

Through the trees,

She reveals herself to me.

She is resting...

She is dead.

She couldn't be,

The stories are all visceral fantasy.

I have fear, I have sadness, I am terrified, and disgusted.

The blood rushes,

And I brace terror,

She mixes with my blood, and runs it cold.

The stillness, an ever-rendering sobriety.

I turn, as does my stomach,

And I walk, while her trees

clasp at my limbs and beckon me back to her.

She Is disgusting,

She is beautiful,

The sun rests on her skin, and gives me a temporary peace,

As the realization washes over me,

This is what I wanted to see.

I came hoping 

for her beauty to tell

A grim tale.

The forest opened wide before me,

I bore her unnatural beauty,

And let it dig itself deep into my heart.

This is the woman who died in the sea of trees.

神は彼女の平和を与える可能性があります.

My Earth

My earth rattles,

And bellows of my being heave,

When I spend every waking breath,

Debating on the debacle

Of my independent state.

My earth crumbles,

With every ill-timed favour,

With every promise not kept,

Every pendulous roar on the clock,

Every moment not savoured.

I whispered my name too freely,

Caressed too sweetly,

Gave away without feeling

My punishment dictates

My earth must slowly fade.

Rising Sun

Over ten-thousand islands
and fifty billion waves,
crashing in separate amplifications,
undying undulations,
and whipped foam.

The land of cherry blossoms and steel
calls for me.
She is exposed
with her earthquakes,
and her radiating perversions,
so twisted and bright.

Her light blinds my eyes,
for I am located in the land
of lucid burning,
but my luck is turning,
and I'll see her soon.

And the traveler in me is dying to be free.
To see the lights of the city,
and the heights of Mt. Fuji.
The electricity rips through me,
so does the solemnity of the prayer trees.

The airplanes in my dreams won't fall,
no bright lights beyond the doors fade,
the pagodas before me will stand tall
and the floating world won't hide in shade.

Only a breadth away
In this land I will stay,
here to play,
among the cranes,
and the planes.