Landscape
Flowers waiting for the sun to wake,
With drops of dew lingering, beside the lake,
Where the breeze doesn't the buds shake,
And the fading moon's struggling to make
His weary eyes stay awake.
And with the first hesitant ray in the sky,
The moon hurries to bid the flowers good-bye.
Yearning for the arrival of a butterfly,
To wipe the dew by just dropping by,
The flower, the sun shines in the blink of an eye.
It's never too late, oh! it's never too late
To catch such a sight, such a state
Of peaceful harmony, a work of Fate
That guides the sun after a long wait.
Such you to me. I'm no longer desperate.
