I sat, in the park, alone.
In front of me, a big dead tree standing.
Try to be strong,
or maybe just try to look like one.
It prays, it hopes, for the rain to comes.
Then once again; even just once;
sprouts will wake,
flashing the morning sunshine,
with smile of innocents.
And once again; even just once;
leafs will be green,
rustling with a blow of the afternoon wind,
containing laughter of children.
A voice in my head said:
Why wishful,
if you have reach the end?
Why faithful,
if you find your self dead and lonely?
A bird flew through.
For a moment, roost.
Just for a moment.
A moment to sang to me:
human kind, cannot bear very much reality..
human kind, with the faith of autumn leafs.
