There you are knocking at my heart, I don't know when it started Maybe centuries or was it yesterday? Unknowingly I was being coloured by you. I am unaware of my first wish but now my time flows through you.
There you are knocking at my heart, I am already afraid of the cold days without you. Are you a dream? Maybe a mirage? Because like a lie I am clinging to you.
There's this book in my hands, it's cold, even the ending is sad. I am not insane to smile or read to a sad story. But strangely, I keep opening you up.
I keep reading it page by page, like I would touch the moon. In between the visible lines like there's a secret prayer just for me.
Now I am weeping willow, but I can't close it. Even though this story is like the thousand others, But I secretly keep wishing to the broken stars and dried wishing well, Maybe this one will end differently.