Nectar of the Sun

Asia calls me

Night time eyes are paper lanterns, by morning replaced with rising suns.

Hair scented, cherry pink, opened up blossoming fresh as ale, worn crisp.

Peaks towering body's harbors, joyous spirits spilling out into streets with ancient festival.

Ears traveling tranquility hearing rich culture, reminiscent of transcendental.

By night paper lanterns replace, mornings rising suns sight, hung high in celebration.
Nectar of the sun lights up the furthest corners, upon the borders of the forests.