I feel the autumn’s breath
And the green that is withering;
I feel the castle comes
Crashing about my false hopes…
I feel that I do not exist again.
I feel and hurt badly
That fresh breeze in
Our story?
My words are voicelessly. My smile: a span fire. My wish? Is a castle in the middle of a storm jerked by the thousands of groans, by the miles apart… I would say ‘Goodbye forever’ but
