From East to West

A glimpse out of the window—

When the Sun dies

Dropping slow

Flowers sigh

Bow their head in the cold

While searching for another light

I

Am watching the Moon climbing up

As the Sun collides

With the far-end tree shrub

I

Am in the West

Received the last Goodnight

Climbing on the cold damp mattress

With a stomach full of soggy fries

Ranted about the misery inside

I

Am from the East

A fairly delightful place filled with lullabies

When the needless concerns used to suffocate me

Now I miss them, no lies

The flowers peeking inside the window

Now they see me looking for my Spark

Eyes plow

Time to embark—