A Consonant Of A Pallid Soul

When I touch the scars of last year's wounds Really I get a consolation, And I think of the next year approaches very soon Without an invitation? Those wounds were healed by the nature But the new winds who knows? May pierce and reunite to make them fresh. I touch the lonely heart with my palpitate palm And feel a different beat, But I cannot change my sorrowful song friend, Though you provide a pleasant music Because it's my panache. * The unseaworthy Soulship must be rigged properly to the Windswept. [ A diary from the Seabed]