Awkward Farewell

On you must like the distant rising sun,

Spreading its rays horizon-to-horizon.

Where the light would lead about,

Which ground it'd rest faintly onto,

Ne'er I knew than do the blossoms.

Your heart beckons a hard journey,

Long as an utterly-spent year,

Dark as the innermost tunnel.

When will those vision stop?

How will those atonement end?

The days are long and fading and gray,

Without the sunshine on my cold sill,

Without rain to fill a barren field,

Without the moon to shimmer on the stream,

Without the swaying of the willow tree,

Without my heart: my life and love.