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The symphony is lost,
so are my thoughts,
eloping with the winds,
swinging like a swing,
swayed by the poetic whims.
Thou say, there is hope,
despair is my treasure, glee where to show?
Glory vanishing into the mist.
Shameful events,
celebrating in a lavish feast.
Still, there is a hope,
the world to awake with a fresh smile,
with the delicate kiss of the sparkling sunlight,
on the dew laden leaves,
and then dance
to the tune of peace and tune of hope.
At night, the world being exhausted,
but, in the quest of a dynamic tomorrow.
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