Oh gray and cloudy skies, have mercy
on tiled heavy heads your sorrow pours
as deep as my torment your tears flowed
my heart bled hope and dried my conscience
what wealth shall lie wasted in purpose
i keenly crop to create my peace
but your doom i face in coldness still
one morning i asked to no avail
my warm sun remained invisible
so i smiled and wore my tiled head
to let your sorrow pour once again
