The Season of Goodbye
I am surrounded by
Stacks of books and void thoughts of this lonely night.
As the old radio silently cries,
Yesterday’s me is saying goodbye.
The black coffee’s steam rises,
Dissolving with fragments of old days’ lies.
And I know tomorrow’s me is calling.
No matter how much I try holding,
Yearning still decays and dries.
Eternity is only an instant,
Only fading stays in lovers’ eye sight.