The night is cruel and clouds are breaking today
In the breeze, the trees are love-stricken and astray
Rustling softly are the leaves that I share in my memory
Till I get my tea every morning after your coffee
You tell me the wind is heading south
I'm living in the north covering the gap in quick bounds
You said we'll never get a new start in this losing battle
As long as I keep shying away from the horrors of war
The dawn arrives quick and we've already quarreled
Just like a sign on the highway, we've ignored them all
I can't rid myself of last night's toil, the words, and blood we drew
The sickness stays in my flesh and blood, your sinew
Love is like dust in my hands
It falls through my frail fingers
I am hanging on, the feeling lingers
As I pick and grab at every grain of sand
The thing I'm afraid the most of is being stuck on the same day. Making no progress. Sure. I'm becoming better as a person. But how is my experience helping others? I've learned nothing worth sharing. I think that I lack the experience that can draw anyone near me. Or keep them close to me.