The spring changed to fall
The big moon appeared small
But on our sky there is a pall
             Our days are dark
No one told us when daylight
Changed to a nasty dark night
There is no sunshine, it is always stark
         I found myself as a tiny spark
The sparrows and seagulls left this ruin
The ruin that is overcast with pain
It is burning up through my veins
     Here there is always sorrow and dark

By Beheshta

Photo by Balazs Gardi