After a night that crushed my soul,
The incessant pain I clearly remember,
Woke up from a disturbed slumber,
Hoping the dawn would find me whole.
Alas, the sun's still not up,
There's no magic in my morning cup,
No roses are in bloom,
The winds move swiftly with arid gloom.
I hear no little birds nor their sweet voice,
Vacuous songs could still make any soul rejoice.
Oh you arrogant morn!
You brought me nothing but left me to mourn?
Who will hold me when I feel so torn,
My heart hardened like corn?
I try so hard to fake a smile.
Alone I shall trod, at least a mile.
Aren't my days all numbered?
At the end, I shall no longer be remembered?
Whom am I trying so hard to impress,
When no one shall be my side when I lay in distress?
I shall walk alone
In the rain, with all the pain,
I shall sing a song and never let out a moan.