chuwei

The Wind calls    But I do not understand. The World turns    But I stay where I am. And who is there now    to translate the Pattern of the Stars Or sing the Music of the Seas    to soothe the Wandering hearts? Fragile and Fading like the Colors of a    Butterfly's wing They have flown off To a place I cannot reach. What is left... A Whisper lost in the Wind A Memory of a Song once Sung. The words that I once knew. They have Gone and leave the world a Darkened room