The Mountains, Clear and Cold

I am the dream you long for, a tale of countless twists and turns, of torn clothes, knees drawn close, and a heart laid bare in tears, yet never attained; a frozen butterfly specimen fluttering through these mountains and rivers, burning up a lifetime of passionate tears.

And you are the light of a celestial star falling into my eyes, granting me a lifetime of devoted admiration; a poem penned by drifting clouds, concealing the world's storms and splendor, the beauty of a pure land, and my inexplicable dreams.

The mountains are cold and clear. We return with the mist, having lived this life without regret.