There is everything
where my family and friends are,
I used to feel safe there.
The air in my lungs,
which tells me I belong,
it hurt,
it hurts,
but then it’s okay,
because nothing is left
but my mother’s arms,
and the warmth of my land.
I remember you
like soft and sweet memories.
I am in the land of gods,
where whispers of magic surround me,
but I left my god in my homeland,
the god of belief I once knew.
Through the train window,
I see Japan growing,
new dreams unfolding,
the city spreading,
a picture of change.
I can breathe the fresh air of Japan,
but I still feel the pull
of the place I once called home.
