Lost track of time,

The elements of pure reality,

Melted like snows in summer,

I wonder why, where has is essence gone?

The moon looks pale tonight,

The light it shimmers looks melancholy,

The clouds seem to be feeling gray,

Just like the soul trapped in mine.

The lavenders look pretty,

In the vase of eternity,

It stands and blooms charmingly,

And yet I can't seem to retain it.

The smell of coffee in the morning,

Pancakes and muffins on the table,

The feeling of warmth and love,

Is something I yearn for.

As I walk along with the garden of eve,

The birds chirping and squirrels run about,

The serenity that passes by at that moment,

Makes eternity feels like seconds.

The wind sighs heavily,

As the rustle of leaves is heard,

Just like how my heart is weary,

As the seasons pass by.

The words I wish I could declare,

Feels heavy from my mouth,

The only salvation for this imprisonment,

Is the ink that I have composed.

Quinn, xoxo