History repeats itself,
Whether is it good or bad,
Whether does it deserve or worth,
Whether is there yes-s or no-s,
Believe me, or not,
The Assassination,
The Murder,
The Blood,
The Souls,
Screaming and shouting and creeping and crying and screeching and scratching and stretching and searching,
Fighting for the something that probably will never come,
Chasing for the fruit which can never ripe —
For the blossom, for the bud, for the leaves, for the thorn,
For the ever-sleeping seed.
Hold on, people.
Written on 28 March 2014, on the news of Chinese Trade Deal in Taiwan.
It makes no difference with what happened twenty-five years ago.
For the students, for the people,
For whom their heart beats.
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