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.
Writer(s): Lior Attar, Joseph Tawadros
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