Home.

Seoul.

All woes of the city melt away

As the sun burrows its head

Under the indistinguishable horizon

Behind the majestic skyscrapers

Headlights occupy already busy roads

So do the street lamps

as they gently illuminate the alley

where we once drunkenly made love

Underground jazz clubs,

and twenty-four hour cafés,

I wander the city of millions, 

never alone but perhaps lonely

Glowing faces pour into the streets 

Chains smoking cigarettes and swearing loudly

Every sentence is a poem

with vulgar rhymes and lyricism

You can’t dream in the city that never sleeps

Neither nightmares nor blissful fairytales

So we raise our glass, and take another shot

For alcoholism is the only escapism

Seoul Special City, a metropolitan haven

Concrete oasis, neon-signed mirage

This is my city, my home sweet home

An insomniac city for insomniac souls