In the land of a distant country,
I am forgetting ways of learning.

The air holds the silence as a lover loving,
In which the past is a nighttime isolated story,
The future in an amiss,
And the present like a stranger,
Never quite right.

The weather feels tight around my skin,
As the sun and the moon break my heart,
The winds blows my unshed tears away,
To somewhere-
Where one day,
My name would spill.