Believe that joy and love are truly real, They will return with same eternal zeal, Though in the other hearts, no longer ours. Oh, listen and believe my every word — We are but parts of Great Dream yet unheard, Among the many seeking Cupid’s powers. The ones who haven’t ceased their old duets, Yet haven’t seen the suns that morning sets. Each breath is but an echo of a storm, That splashes in our souls with yearning's tide. Like shadows in the azure, bright and warm, We’re sparks of light where icy voids reside. Like moths that to the candle flame are drawn, We seek the secret in the thickest haze. But stars go out, and dreams are left to mourn, In simple longings of the bygone days. Though world is but a ghost of Hope deceased, And sun weeps gold through darkness of the sky. We’re wanderers, whose search is never ceased, To clothe the naked soul from every eye. Though love is but a glint of fleeting fame, That fades away into the eternal deep. We’re whispers of the grove, the wind’s refrain, Beneath the ancient canopy asleep.
