Vhanfire

i am a sentence sentenced by you...
to ever bear barely this word rue

when stars' streaks strike from wide sad dark sky...
to crystal drifts dripping from my eyes

quibbles in my head hid hundreds of mourn...
forlorn heart hurt by mask it worn

the days of dying time suddenly give...
wind that twirls the twigs and leads leaves to leave

sand in the glass ceased to fall tall a moment...
mending heart grows strong but never stop to lament.