The tumbling autumn leaves of gold,
Could not disguise my empty soul.
The gusty breeze won't stir my heart,
This pain that grows when we're apart.

Though cloudy fog might hide my sorrow,
Or snow may blanket all tomorrows,
I ache to find a place that's safe,
In ruthless winters cold embrace.

Perhaps when comes the pulse of spring,
I'll find a song again to sing,
But as the ice clogs each new river,
For now my heart shall slowly wither.

"Don't see what I do not want to see,
you don't hear what I don't say.
Won't be what I don't want to be,
I continue in my way."