Endless stories gyrate in the circle of time

as this cyclone engulfs everything that dares to face it.

The emotions break into pieces;

The shades of grey and black faint

into the hues of time;

These darker songs

open on a summer morn—

The bruises on this tender skin

and the continuous utterance, "Everything will go fine"

The glimmer of light through the buildings

remain near our hands,

as the cyclone keeps coming nearer,

messing us, killing souls filled with hope and sorrow.

This cyclone doesn't know

the bruises we have got from it.

This heart's now weak yet smiling now,

A lot more bruises can it bear

when the sun's still in the sky.