Parading

The moon can’t know it is serene and clear,

Look at the sky: is there no constellation

People wonder about what you are pursuing.

It is the weight more than the night.

Time is too afraid of passing, is riddled with holes

Daylight ran short.

Oh, those mighty kings of the jungle, I could hardly stand to see ’em

The clouds are marshalling across the sky,

Facts about the iris

I think I grow tensions