Epitaph

is a brief poem inscribe on a tomb.

Stone phrasing a deceased person usually with rhyming lines.

 

 

Here, the bloody wind is coming and sky getting dark

A river that can bring a tears are congealed with disaster

Calamities our facing right now are the crossroad of century

Are knotted with the blind roots of time

With a hundred wounds

Perhaps life miserable is Satan make

This tree has no hope of spring

Butterflies and birds that will never give up flying again

Let the flowers bloom

Until the sun are not giving up to rise

Awakening us by being a murder of our nature

Typhoon we encountered were gone but not forgotten!

 Goodbye. . .