Puritan Scaffold
Unconsciously have I netted in the puritan frame,
Originated form the transparent burden,
Which squeezed and tore me, and entitled love, surffering and sympathy.
I am standing in the tip of the top of the dissent of crazy and statue.
Less than one nanometer I swing would be the Melancholy.
The stream and joyful Nightingale
I want to come to thee
Would you grant a drop of wine and tears to console me,
To usher in awaking, the brave new world.
No more the hollow, neither the waste
Nature is the terminal I am bound for.
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