As the first ray, of life strikes
at the very, very beginning...
the golden aura, enlightening world,
with its hue, in horizon rim.
Giant life of tree finds, a lonely sole,
existing just, underneath...
a trembled silhoutte, a blurred image,
with the evident unknown, lies beneath.
On the grey island, it lives on,
foggy mist around, no trace of warmth...
where the season's ceased, where the season stills,
no bindings are found, nor exists free will...
A loner, a loner, a loner has just born,
taking the shape, of fragile self, just invisible and torn.
Mystery lies ahead, with darkness behind,
dusty soil below, inky sky up high...
not a single self, which is kind,
not a trace of life, only empty sigh.
The feelings freeze, in ice cold,
with heart and mind are numb...
no friendly hand, no pair of warm eyes,
nothing is there, to embrace, to come.
The loner, the loner, the loner's sitting on ground
with her back to the world, with her empty eyes, with just ignorance around.
On the grey street, as the storm hits,
with none in mortal sight...
drenched in rain, as all colours are drained,
leaving her lonely n' helpless behind.
In the time of night, when the world retires
under the canopy, of the sleep...
coming out of her hide, she explores the world
up, down, around and deep.
The loner, the loner, the loner's roaming around...
as the shadow of her, dumps her and flees, with the evident sundown.
In the time of dawn or in the dusk,
when the sky's flooded with reddish tint...
she lies low, in the dense wood,
got merged in nature, without a hint.
Observing the life, surrounding her,
in light, in sound, but within...
In silence she sighs, with a longing stare
searching the peace, still beneath.
The loner, the loner, the loner's turning away...
from the world of fake, to the world of truth, where the light gently lays.
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