Miles we’ve crossed,
through the bare white snow stretched to the horizon;
Some single tress,
bore fruits of Chione dwell tenaciously in distant isolation;
The engines rumble,
as if we are a unstoppable storm coming from the west to Asia;
It’s acrid smoke purvey,
Smolder a layer of cloudy frame around the spotted windows.
The enormous sun,
dipped under the open horizon and disappeared in purple haze;
We watched in silences,
the moment when life and darkness meet should not be disturbed;
Friends we’ve made,
after every clink of glasses filled with sparkling moonshine;
Unlike our bodies,
our thoughts were free and wild as they slipped away from the train.
But still time dragged and routines became chaotic;
We no longer lived as one but as many;
We hardly recognized ourselves but of each other;
Never trust the reflection from stained windows.
The hours that delayed in our minds,
Those are moments that only belong to us.
For just that fleeting hours,
We yearned for one more breath together.