These empty days pass,
like clouds in the sky...

Tick....tick....tick.
Low clouds are scattered, amongst the mountain...

The smell of green
seeps into every pore...

In this life, we have no certainty.
Our next day; never guaranteed...

Fragments of thought dwindle,
cut into meaningless pieces...

I am so tired of this worry,
that your words are not true...

Beyond the dark, empty hollows,
dismay stirs, where the storms brew...

In days of young and past,
he shone bright with his smile...

Each month we rejoiced,
gathering to celebrate life...

Amidst the luscious valley,
covered in varying greens...

My eyes have opened,
to find that a new day is in motion...

This passion,
mindless, careless, and free...