Standing tall all along,
With all broken ardour.
Few leaves,
Still waiting for those distance spring.
The droplet of dew,
Moistening the dried leaves.
Few kiss the ground,
Fly away for distance dreams.
Birds fly to their home,
Far way beneath the horizon.
Leaving the lonely branches,
Waiting for the dawn.
Time rush through,
The unknown by lanes.
Taking those memories of gone years,
And the wait is what left alone.
It has been a long wait,
But I still adore.
I have been waiting for this day,
And the wait is what makes this day.
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