I Will Not Die

The bright yellow sun has / Set behind the Freedom Hill / Now I cannot put my faith in / This dark and violent storm

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Amdo Sershul

Amdo Sershul hoards his war stories, / deals them out sparingly to passers-by / in their times of need.

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In Exile

An old man below a weeping willow / Hears the wind whipping / The leafless branches / Hanging down

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Red Forehead

Why is his blood so hot? They ask, / And I tell them — / That you were orphaned by circumstances

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Verdict

Ladies and gentlemen, / these trace fossils belong to / our dearly departed Tyrannosaurus Rex.

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Of Mixed Race

The fading mirage, / The offspring of those poor and clandestine tribes, / Amidst the great mountains and flowing rivers,

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? ? ?

You see him walking / Walking… not crawling yet / His head slightly bowed

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