I was dynamic and vibrant in those days
with warm tones of burgundy.
So many of us fallen off tonight,
Why this sun hardly shines nowadays?
Who's going to go next is unpredictable
Why we must fall, is still a myth
What happen to us when we are fallen?
I'm trembling, thinking it's unchangeable
a moist wind blew, cold and hostile
my voice broke off, I remember
I was covered with splendid morning dews
winter had come and I'm in exile.