An empty bed is a valley of tears
on a dark, lonely street
and it’s taking many years
for the dancing stars to meet…

An empty bed is like a foggy day
when the inner smile is missing
people say that we should obey
in front of love, when kissing…

An empty bed is thief in the night
who hates the moonlight serenade
and takes from our dreams a bite
for all emotions that aren’t paid…

An empty bed is echo of the whisper
and we should blame it on the moon
because doesn’t give us shiver
in front of love, we remain immune…

I hate english weather when it's raining all day...
I hate the wind, but still, I wish it could stay...
I hate it because leaves are drinking all the rain...
And they are keeping me in world's deepest pain...
I am asking rain over and over kindly to cease...
Cause manhood is suffering from the darkest disease...
Love and mercy had gone, faded away...
Me... and you... everyone is to blame...
But we should be thankful, for the heart-blessing rain...
And trying to be better, do not never complain...
Make love happen, take everything under control...
It's our life, so we must have this goal...
We should be still, and stop our eyes from crying...
Because behind clouds the sun is always shining...

(So, I wrote this poem on my trip, on the bus...
Maybe it's not perfect... please don't make any fuss...)