Sunday morning,
saw you hanging by a thread,
spinned with a magic ply.


Eerie weather,
who's not able to complete,

led us to pass you by.

Missing streams

clashes through the ocean,
takes time to unify.


In your daydreams,
butterflies in light blue sky,
Caught in a lullaby,


Seems like a dream,
more a nightmare than a dream,

whispering another sigh.

We got over

this misunderstanding;
some thoughts are hard to die