In the mist, some dew drops.
Quenched my thirst while my eyes.
Unable to see anything far beyond.
Left me to hope.
Hope of an ending, hope of a new beginning.
There was a day back.
In the clear blue sky.
With sun shining all over.
I could have won the world.
Of course I could have.
And thus began a journey.
A journey that still lingers.
Yearn for home, I.
For the bed that my mother made.
Alas, the mist is at work.
Showing me things I need.
Clouding my head from what I want.
I must move on.
From the sweet nectar of my beloved.
To the dew drops of this vicious mist.
The lips can’t be enchanted by the wines of the world.
Time is ripe for them to crack.
Time is for me to snap.
Time is for the mist.
And some dewdrops.