Spring never travels alone.
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when she was a chlid, when mum was young
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Some words, once spoken, lose their meaning.
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That's the silence of wind, the roar of heart
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Meeting you in the sea of people is the rarest miracle.
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Every tiny leaf holds a beginning anew.
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Let the heart hum its untold tales.
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Before neon lit, she waited for a late encounter.
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Crossing paths with the wind, I expand into the world.
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Even it's slightly dark, there's light from my heart.
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Will firm to be me, no place for modesty
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