Today there is nothing,
only a memory of something gone.
Sadness, like the sound of childhood
laughter drifting over summer's shadow.
Winter arrives suddenly!
And the end is here.
A small bird stays, pecking
at the silent ground.
The wind laments his cold isolation,
and casts away the colours
lived in more beautiful seasons.
Hope is this one small thing.
Our sparkle in the darkness.
One bird left behind.
Forgotten? No.
For he stays to say;
There must be, there will always be.
