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Shallow Rivers
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Echoes of the Fall
These days
Drowse in silence.
But when wind grows,
Strong rains will drop.
''Sometimes I hear what can't be heard in a summer evening threshold when fresh air luring with its crispness makes you stay outdoors for a while. For those who retain their sanity even when asleep and fear never waking up again the sounds are hidden. Thus the chain of events is foreseen and night replaces fading day. But the insane whose minds are possessed by enigmatic nymphs look through the silent evening regardless the clock tower dial and shiver and smell the scent of autumn soil moisture'
What has been seen
Cannot be forgotten.
Even in a dream,
At the edge of the morning dawn.
I dive in echoes of the fall.
Drift through freezing storms
To the gates of winter.
Morning brainstorm melts in vanity
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Of another day to dwell.
As the slumber overtakes me
All those visions rise.
Haunting memories enforce my agony.
Entail spiritual decay.
Colors blinding, sounds deafening.
No return to life.
Nymphs of wailing wind.
Here I fall asleep.
And all I have is yours,
Just sing to me.
Sing to me.
Never fade away.
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