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.