I used to be afraid of sunset;
I hesitated to finish this hundredth poetry.
Like the ending was reaching.
It might be no mornings nor next stories.
I did not want you to go,
My soul cried for lost painfully.
But I start to be enough old,
Something is met to let go, finally.
Good time is always too short.
Live with what that is got wholeheartedly.
Sunrise will come,
A new day with another same sun’s beauty.
Love above, and destiny
Will bring back what is mine to me.
# I submitted my 99th for a contest:)
# photo: A way to heaven – Chuo shokudou, Kyoto University