Could you be able to see everything suprisingly?


Passing the countryside,

would you like to climb

over the one difficult to describe?


Turning to the right,

are you sure there's the light?


Is the vague memory more real than a realistic world?


Could you create the draft,

coloured joy and sad?


If you got a premonition, could you draw it with the soft pencil?


Motionless don't matter.

No sense of direction interrupts the hatter.

Meanwhile no one finds the letter.


The total invisibility is it's way all the time,

both hands on the table, naked and fine.

Though the warm body of it doesn't never sit.


There's an opportunity inside isolation.

Is it fate or fake, or even an occupation?