This sound is dying
This little bird around the corner
sings a song that pleases me.
And i imagine watching it, yet
i can't find it, i can't see.
This wondrous song keeps all i dream of,
very deep, deep within me.
So all my dreams start climbing up, yet
i can't find them, i can't see.
Now the sound, it seems, is weakening,
the wind plays silly tricks on me.
I try to follow, try to find what
reminds me of this melody.
Just whispered darkness is remaining,
clouds and shadows cover me.
And the song i used to dream of
is blurring my reality.
All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Norman Möschter.
Published on e-Stories.org on 03.02.2013.