Wishing for the radiance of a far off star
you walk away alone.
Even the color of the flowers, dusty with sand,
aren't reflected in your distant gaze.
You realize that remembering the morning when
a single tear flowed causes your legs to stop moving.
The footprints of many others continue down your path.
Everyone has seen the same dream.
If you count all the things you've lost,
you can close your eyes and forget them.
A strong wind blows and even those footprints
will someday be buried by those white flowers.
The dreams of man are much more fragile
than the life of a small flower.
Those footprints on the path you walk on
will someday bloom with those flowers.
Those footprints on the path you walk on
will forever sway with those white flowers.