Is it dark enough to call it a night?
Or too early to ask you that?
The darkness holds skeletons in the cupboard
The stars feign their shine in grace
The moon narrates my unrequited love

Winter is it? Or metaphor of my life?
Cold is my soul lost at the Screaming Woods
I dream of sinking in Titanic
Will you rescue me from water and woods?
Soaked in sweat, I wake up in panic
Stretching my neck towards the sky
Out of the window
That is my eternal canvas
Where hopes and dreams and lies are
Scattered in nowhere of fair distances;
Couldn’t even remember the pieces

My metaphor of life,
An infinite projection of blithe
Rigid, cruel, lonely, faded
Yet the season of lights and love
My metaphor of winter is you
For the night sky holds all my secrets
All my love
And is all that I cherish
I’d steal the night sky for you but is it too early to tell you that?