The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, you are over there, still peering behind the curtains of your closed window.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, the walls of your room is still getting thicker and higher, echoing the silence of your confinement.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, your wounds are still bleeding sorrow and defeat.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, your tears are still flowing like a murky river.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, your murky river is still watering the trees of your misery and grief.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, you still feel lost amid your familiar roads.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, you are still over there, at the corner of the street, with an immeasurable pain radiating from your eyes.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, your loneliness is still getting worse, and your spiritual isolation castle has become invincible.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me about, the timid moonlight, behind its thick dark clouds, is shyly pointing towards your blocked roads.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, you still harbor hope and a dream about a helping hand.
The silence of the night tells me an old tale, it tells me, your waiting for a helping hand, may take So Long.