Triste

Softly, the wind blew away the blue to another place...
No more tears left in this side of the world,
gently, the trees shed their last leaf.
The world has just begun..

The blue has yet to come back again yet blown to some where far enough.
Heaven's busy,
the rain has yet to fall,
will heaven be crying soon?

My calm sense awaken and awaits magic.
Sober of what i ought to learn and give.
The wind needs to be back to blow me away.
Sun will then set in peace...

Never so sober yet drunk in what i have to face,
a beautiful end has yet to set in,
never would i mind the wait.

Soon, a true transformation,
will i be yearning for blues again?