The night you left,
You left a part of our
Youth, apart from

What we used to be.
We used to be the
Sunshine seeking

To warm the coldness
Of scars caused by
The boldness of

Summertime.

When the seasons of
Our fate fell from the
Trappings of time,

We once tried to count
The scattered leaves
Left by autumn, and hoped

That these were the lost
Anthems of  our hearts, the
Last hymns of our paradise.

Paradox it was.

But still, we never
Ceased from braving the
Numbing frosts of winter,

Believing in our souls'
Springtime where
Flowers bloom, where

Forever looms.