This poem is for zhoshafei, whose stories have brought me comfort in my moments of sadness.

In times when my heart had bled

And so many tears I had shed,

The fog within me was lifted

Through every line of yours I'd read.

Indeed, some days I just wanted to hide

Underneath these covers,

When I had lost my drive,

Though I suddenly felt better...

Upon perusing your books,

Which not only entertain the reader,

But also contain various truths,

That make one ponder.

Who would not be intrigued

By the contents

Within your every piece,

Many a powerful message?

You give importance to God's Word,

Wise and pristine;

Amid this rough, tainted world,

You remain soft and clean.

And the way in which you describe

Every scene, even the briefest of lines,

Has blown my eccentric mind;

Author, may you never cease to write.

'Cause believe it or not,

Your works are sources of happiness,

Eliciting beatific thoughts;

They are my antidepressants.