You always waited for the moment
When the wind will come
And take you away

Like a paper crane

Gently dancing with the breeze
Flying far, far from me
You couldn't see
The tear on my cheek
But it's okay
It will dry

And maybe someday I to will learn how to fly

The shards of fallacies
of the past souls
await, the robust
youth.

The shards impale them,
as their boiling
young blood,
stands witness,

To the reminiscence
of the fallacies.