The same old rain
Life rolls like the fog over the hills. Just another cloud of gray, like the quiet protagonist of O. An immortal leaf in the darkness, among the dying. The strings echos everr so caming, ever so gently. Dragging our feet into the new dawn, a glorious day of dying heros. Of lives seen and unseen. Of empty promises. Of cold and nothingness. Tears that can flood the nile, Lost loves, lost children, There is no end to pain of the piercing silent of the night.