My light has never seen the dawn ,
Therefore, in my eyes it's winter.
Your flowers are the spring that
chases my waters to collide ,
without falling , light is not
a survivor , without morning
there is no other meaning.
Spring is what you left with ,
all the flowers, seeds and birds
came with a letter to me ,
and stayed with nature's heartbeat.
I still hear the echoes,
I still feel your heartbeat ,
somewhere near , beneath
nature's spirit trees.