I remember the days when you were there,
When the days were still fair,
And bliss-like scent filled the air.
But now everything seems wet and soaked,
As if a storm passed by,
And showered everything with just one stroke.
And now I ask myself if I did anything wrong,
If I was the reason why you're gone,
And mused every picture that is kept in my head.
As it slowly drift in a misty place called regret.
And as I grow nostalgic,
Tears roll down my cheeks without me even noticing,
And I laugh and tell myself to stop crying,
And that if people saw, they would be cringing.
But hopelessly I continue my wet parade,
As if a limitless rain is currently pouring,
As the things that we did flashed in my mind,
That there was still an us and everything was heaven-like and stil fine.
The things that you liked,
Adored,
And treasured,
Was still pinned in the bulletin board in my head.
And I wonder "will this nostalgia ever end?"
The memories are like a repeating sunset,
It continually happens and it never ends,
I guess, in my own head, at least,
But even though I get hurt, I still take the risk.
I bury my head as the tears roll down again,
No matter how hard I try,
It doesn't stop,
It won't stop,
It couldn't stop,
But I want it to stop.
These tears are the consequences,
Of digging the hidden things;
Kept in my head.