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April bloom never arrived, | Hoping for regeneration, | But my seeds at all but die.
April bloom never arrived, Hoping for regeneration, But my seeds at all but die. I long to be swept away By the shifting sand, To be freed by roaring winds, To forget who I am. As everything lay so still, Silently waiting away. Dusk arrived and tore the wall, Pushing the sun down, Wet and black, the freezing air. I fell to ground. As everything lay so still, Silently waiting away. April bloom never arrived, So I look within, To live the year and season Without changes.
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