Golden trees, Golden leaves, shimmering in the sun, blinding lights. Tiny suns, piercing through the night when it rains, it shimmers, all the more, twinkles in the night, shining bright.

It shimmers in my eyes, my eyes smiles wide. The vines of the Golden tree, it stretched out, reaching for its wanted love. It's getting dark, its quieten down, the tree sways, in the melancholy sound of the night. It hurts to see it die, in the middle of the night…. it's dying it's never getting younger it's not getting brighter…

We passed the summer
             With bunch of joy

Dear, what if I told you
             We made it
But why?
       As the warm passed us
       We were so weary

       How dare we let the branch down
      After all of the time we clinging  desperately on it

             Listen,
         The birds start to hide their warbles
         As they back to their nest

         As we met the wind in autumn
         They laughed
         Because they knew
         Our demise its getting closer than ever
         Buried by the cold
         In a cemetary called memory