(for that man with a skim board
whose saltiness tastes like sin)

In this battlefield
I will bury my dreams.
No one will see me
lay them on the earth.
I have to dig
the ground

alone.

All they will
see are just

ruins.

I will hoist a flag.
Its color is white.
Neither for peace
nor for surrender.
Peace is futile.
Surrender fears

love.

After this war
my heart will

reckon.

Nostalgia will
make it even

happier.

(for that man
we need no Eve)