A Depressed Dream

I raise a bloodshot tear from your face,

bear the melancholy I left here

in my past life.

I am watching a black and white rainbow

that has broken into

my backyard.

A depressed dream, created hastily

by your snow-white lips,

is dying within me.

Your heart is like a rose,

stripped of its thorns.

Will the pain I paid for my disgraceful silence

bring a touch of green heaven?

Will the regret that pierces

my abandoned, dying heart become a reward 

for those people who have learned

to wait painlessly?

Let the tears burn, close the windows

overlooking the newly built paradise.

I feel bad with this smile,

it is a bit too tight.

God, we're meeting again.

What brings you to hell? Before you move left,

consider whether the night

is good-natured enough to leave you

a piece of heaven as a memento.

As long as we are in grateful prayer,

as long as we are sated with

bread and blood,

our testimony will not pass away,

it will not burn up.

I embrace myself with another lie,

savor the poisonous flesh

of my heart.

Will hope pass away if I say the last dying word?