Dear ghost,
Walking in this crowded city, who have snatched all my dreams, I still long for the woods. I believe whatever makes my bubbling desire suits the woods and the silence. But I am afraid, the fire that youth offers to me cannot seem to leave the chaotic nights of this city. However, it is the daylight that drives me mad and into the woods. Truth be told, I cannot be above the romance of flying. I have always been wrung by the fantastical sky. But I have within all my crooked power touched the grasses beneath my feet. I have walked and tried to reluctantly put my nose on all wanton business. Because my job demanded so. I have become the pride and the braggrat because of all I saw and knew. But within this year, I have withered a thousand year, and the gray hair and the wrinkles chases me every night. I know not whether I am wallowing in my cowardice by wanting to leave this nightmarish day or should I indeed leave for the woods? Am I coward for fearing my day? But it has only been a year. Should I leave indeed and disappoint all who are secretly bragging of my success? I donot want to disappoint anymore though, for I already did five year ago and I still pay the price for it. But the day scares me and the wood calls me. Should I leave or should I stay?
Yours even as I fear to be.