Minds before bed always yearn for the night sky outside the window.

I fail to grasp my spirit’s reluctance,

so I do as it wishes

and open the curtains.

Moonlight coronates my body.

Midnight breeze is the drifting dandelions,

floating into the room to meet the darkness,

like two star-crossed lovers.

This is the pureness I have longed for throughout time.

This is the prototype away from the empirical world.

At where the stars and books cannot reach,

I hear Demian’s whispers.

Within the ashes of the moon,

I ponder the definition of humans.

Drifting with the midnight breezes,

I observe, up and down,

the sparse pedestrians enveloped inside the tranquil canvas.

Occasionally passing vehicles stop at the crossroads.

Stores faint under the lamps’ erratic yellowness.

Like eternity.

Imperceptibly, the wind has filled the entire room.

Trains of thought linger within,

mingling into the mysterious Milky Way.

I feel as if

some truly essential things

no longer fall apart due to daylight rationality.

They finally return to their original form

in this midnight resurrection.

People are planets orbiting alone,

sticking to their orbit even a million years.

However, occasionally,

Some planets will dash against the unknown universe,

in spite of their own lives.

Perhaps bored by the endlessly repetitive cycles.

In this gloomy midnight,

I catch sight of the illusionary utopia.

We still live

inside this numb and indifferent world

But we also exist

inside this ancient and delicate universe

Heading toward the life that’s decided by ourselves only.

Nonetheless,

“Tomorrow is another day.”