It took me a while
But I realized
I can still walk the line
While looking at the sky.

My love is winter skies,
Ice cold cheeks,
Rainy days and frozen tears

It's a series of sad songs,
The most melancholic,
But I don't mind it not being frolic

It's loosing, finding, keeping hope
Old park benches,
Not staying close

Like the future
That never comes
It's the kind that only haunts.

Are there ever clear skies when the Moon wants to hide?
Or does she have control over the Clouds?