Summer Wind

In the time after the summer rain, the evening breeze mixes with the coolness of the night, slowly possessing my clear lines of poetry. Across the still dark night, walking on the mundane streets, the wind has warmed and the rain has cooled down. Behind the wind, flowers, snow and moon, there are old grudges intertwined with blood and tears. Regarding those indescribable scenery, it is only called greed. In the turbid night, for whom are the neon lights shining brightly? In bizarre places, cups and plates are in a mess, and people are drunk and dreaming, but they are living in the void of ignorance and envy...