As the gentle wind, it softly wisps,
Its secrets cold and brisk.
The sky is blue and lightly clouded,
The morning is aloft sorrounded.
By fading stars and a red white moon,
As the men and women swoon.
For lonliness has a broken heart.
And in depth its music starts,
As soliloquy should tremble,
The voices of humanity.
Lost in the shaded paths of sympathy.