The wilted Me

The night is too long
and has crystallised into frost
in the attic filled with cold hope
My tears glistens with weakness and pain
Rain gently bounces off the vermillon window
I have written my life on paper
only to be blown into a mess by the winds
The ghostly white curved moon hooks onto the past
The faraway dream has become really faint
The wind has dispersed image of me
My smile has become faintly yellow
My thoughts lay aside quietly
spring has already come
drifting down brillantly
the wilted me
If you are sad don't cross the river of worries
For fear that you can't get back on shore
and swayed away for a lifetime
The sky is starting to light up my sighing voice
For tomorrow is a better day