April bloom never arrived,
hoping for regeneration,
but my seeds at all but die.
I long to be swept away
by the shifting sand,
to be freed by roaring winds,
to forget who I am.
As everything lay so still,
silently waiting away.
Dusk arrived and tore the wall,
pushing the sun down,
wet and black, the freezing air.
I fell to ground.
As everything lay so still,
silently waiting away.
April bloom never arrived,
so I look within,
to live the year and season
without changes.