The autumn mist has come along
To take what's left of all things gone
Burnt thoughts are floating through the air
The smell of change is everyhwere
Octobers rust when dead souls meet
Their voices echo through the streets
I dug my heart up from the mud
My voice is soaked in my own blood
The autumn mist is made of sighs
Showing past and blinding eyes
I wander all alone, withdrawn
I'll see it clear when it moves on
Some say that love is but a joke
Some read the signs within the smoke
I breathe the smoke in utter fear
For now I'm bound to disappear
So, so where do we go?
All things new
So what do we do?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow