Dear ghost,
In the rushing river and the rustling mountain. I have not met my fate. In the luring lake and the broken sky, I do not see my spirit. My kingdom have not seen the calming sea. It lies in the narrow dreams of free mind. It lingers in the greedy heart of youth. I have climbed the mountains to see the curled up lake. I have walked beneath the tunnel beside the obedient river. I have lost my breath and lost the light. Yet again I have bubbled the surging urge to leap out of my skin. I have fought the yearning of my whisperer. Thus, my soul is still locked in the shell of your chest.
Yours even as I fear to be.