My sadness leads me on, With reigns that are whipped by the wind That takes my tears ahead Towards the abyss of my destination. Will I simply fall over To see her? Or, will I simply fall? I long have bent a knee To the sky With its current of flowing clouds That dropped water upon my cheek. My eyes see the ocean Divided in two, Poured over my solemn face. I am still webbed in a heart That does not wish to depart From where I seat myself, Upon a throne made of silver As this color clashes with the gold That descends from my stare. I wanted her to catch all the droplets That only fall for me. For when relief can come to be The simplest end to a sickness Of a single drop Over a cliff, that does not stop The fall. The fall of petals From the springtime of my eyes Does not mean for renewal Except for the same pain of sadness That does not leave Except for the reprieve, the fall.