Nigh the river where the sorrows
Sway through the waver over the ferry
I sit and glare them or sometimes
Glance beyond the stars until cock-crow
Miserable day yet persisting
I don't know what brings the destiny
or will tomorrow be pleasant to see
or even more worse than what it is
The star that collapse swiftly
My instinct feels something inevitable
I have heard and brought up wherein
people talk and believe in superstition
Yet believing as such, somewhere
In my mind that gleans acquiescedly
That for sure ther is a bright tomorrow
Hidden some where in sorrows.
