The wind wisps through the hallowed trees
singing to me a lonely song
lamenting tales of what was once,
of love lost and love won;
of you and me long, long ago.
When the world was blooming in Spring
hand in hand we had walked along
beneath the sighing, blossomed boughs,
their romances strewn with birdsong.
My heart had danced to those lovely threads.
Alas, spring eventually dies to winter.
The chilling North-winds slowly creep
to freeze all forms of thriving life,
lulling the trees to an eternal sleep.
Their boughs are hushed in sorrow.
As I grow cold and bare inside
my soul echoes the memories of the tune
of that spring, that love, that life long-lost;
those moments have faded all too soon.
The final withered leaf breaks free.
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