His pen moved gracefully obeying the music of his words,
Enthusiastically he wrote on the table regardless the mountain of dirt,
Thousand of ideas raced in his mind unknowingly of which to write first,
His lips dried and cracked showing his unbearable thirst.

The wind chime hanging on his door strung a beautiful rhythm,
As he listened, he composed, "Forever's First Day" his heart-warming anthem,
It was about two lovers finally met each other in the airport,
A promise which could never be sold nor bought.

He wrote with great sensibility and emotion,
The gut feelings in him were still in motion,
Helplessly, tears of his touched heart dripped into his art of potion,
He knew he would not drown in the heart of an ocean.

Then, he halted to grasp a piece of thin fresh air,
His hand was supporting his scalp, under his hair,
Messy room, unshaved moustache, body odour, he does not care,
Only ideas of Chinese pop music, he'd like to share.

He ended his piece with love's rebirth,
This piece of music is his flesh and blood,
Soon his irresistible tiredness and tension blocked his nerve,
He slept with a note in front of his door, "Lee-Hom at work".