- Whenever sleepless nights pile up,
My heart pours itself into words;
Sometimes my emotions are a rebellion born of defiance,
At other times, the fresh blossoms of spring branches.
Silently and helplessly,
My heart pours itself into words.
Perhaps one day we will become the beginning of a brand-new spring.
Or perhaps that fifth season, the one that never was,
The rarest of spring blossoms, the deepest, most vivid shade of red…
Who knows? Perhaps…
Perhaps… Who knows?