In the twilight's gentle glow,
Sorrow breathes through the boughs,
The river winds and dances slow,
As I search for lost tomorrows.
Dusk drapes its cloak upon the trees,
Where heartache mingles with the breeze,
Each ripple a tale of dreams set adrift,
Carried away, like a poignant gift.
The roots run deep in this sacred ground,
Through laughter and tears, where we're all bound,
Yet shadows linger, their whispers still,
Echoing softly in the evening chill.
I wander where the wildflowers bloom,
In this quiet place where memories loom,
With every step, the stories entwine,
In the fabric of love, bitter and divine.
So, I'll sit by the river, let it wash my soul,
Feel the current take on the weight of the whole,
For in the sorrow, a glimmer remains,
In the heart of the dusk, we find strength in our pains.
As the stars awaken and light up the night,
I’ll hold close the warmth that once felt so right,
With each whisper of water, my spirit will mend,
For in this old river, I know I can bend.
And when the dawn breaks, painting skies anew,
I'll carry the roots of this heart that I knew,
For sorrow can guide us, like a lantern's soft glow,
In the calming embrace where love starts to grow.
Folk
sorrow, river, dusk, heart, roots