Tired eyes,
Glimmering despite the pain,
Watching the comings and goings,
Recognizing the familiar and new.
These old eyes,
Can cry only in the rain,
Matching the sobbing and pouring,
The mixing of soul and weather in two.
Red blue eyes,
Droplets washes the cheeks stains,
Leans on a dirty brick mooring,
Soul suffering is all that left to do.

Come darkness of night,
Hide all from the bright
Till eyes can not follow
Or see the deepness of sorrow.