My loving place,
I would like to go.
My mind inclines there always—
but here I am.
Under the control of life,
control of human.
What I have decided:
to face.
Thinking of my home,
streams of tears fall.
(Also, my nose gets embarrassingly runny.)
Once the lovely secrets I had—
I regret now I had not told you.
And the faithless acts I had done—
I regret.
Forcing the times, I don't think I would.
Throttling the feelings of pains,
thinking of you,
tears drop relentlessly.
(And yet, somehow, no one brings me tissue.)
What is this for?
Samsaric is the world for me.
Wherever I go,
it is sadness only.
There is no ending to my sorrows.
(But the Wi-Fi is surprisingly good.)
Even if we come together
because of the fate we have,
we have to part.
Growing through these sorrows,
life's ending.
I pray to God:
What's wrong with this?
Look after me.
(And if possible, send snacks.)
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