The day has left its mark.
he moment lingers on,
And harks back to blue twilight;
Which gnaws at the soul.
Time heals, I wonder,
Under a grey moon,
Sadness like falling autumn leaves.
Wither so ever the wind blow does not really matter.
After a rainstorm,
Water drips from leaves,
Like faint notes of a sad symphony.
A day come and went,
In the land of the blind-hearted.