Like a grave, I’m silent deep inside,
Your leaving—such a brutal wound I couldn’t hide.
Still every day I write these broken tunes,
In the land of separation, I roam like a drifter, lost and bruised.
The city’s full of people, yet my home is bare,
Your departure felt like a storm—quiet, unfair.
Maybe in someone else’s sky, you are the light,
My sky is only clouds, swallowed by endless night.
The last letter I had written melts away in rain,
Love loses every time—time plays its game.
When the rain falls, it feels like you call my name,
I press my face to the window—no one’s there the same.
In crowded streets I walk just like a shadowed part,
The dreams you gave me now lie burnt inside my heart.
The city’s full of people, yet my home is bare,
Your leaving was a storm—silent, rare.
On rooftop wires, my soaked heart never dries,
Every breath I take prepares your disguise.
Salt and sunlight seal the envelopes of old,
Love taught me meanings I never thought I’d hold.
By the riverbank I counted wave after wave,
No one called me the way you once gave.
At nameless stations the trains all end,
In my life, you were the final refrain.
Like a grave, I’m silent deep inside,
Your leaving—such a ruthless, lasting strike.
Still every day I write these broken tunes,
In the land of separation, I’m a wandering soul—forever bruised.
