Until your hair grows Grey And until I am no more…

Until your hair grows grey and until I am no more,

the silence remains for the wound is now sore.

Song is still unsung and the music is lost,

in the whirlwind of reasons that were cast.

And when many a autumn and many a winter, I surpassed

and left many a spring and summers for you to see

And When the dusk will draw close for you, as

As for me the sun already went to sleep.

In those lovely lonely evenings, you in the arm chair, ruffling through the pages…..

….It is then

When….I’ll come back

I’ll come back to see your sparkling eyes and as a breeze to sway those ‘grey’ hairs,

I’ll come back to feel your laughter, that by each passing day is more livelier, I must feel.

Yet you will see me in the setting sun

Yet you will see me in falling leaves

and you will see me in dying spring

Even, in waving autumn you will see me

And with those untimely remembrance and those fading memories

A drop shall fall on the book, the ink shall fade and the letters will vanish

Another will fall on the ground, shall succumb with the dust

And evaporate…..

and I’ll come back again……..when your hair will grow grey and when I’ll be no more.



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