Your Voice

The colour of that faraway day is in the white clouds that a faded blue blurs...
Inside my heart is a pain hidden from all.

The words into which I put my all already become distant.
In the midst of your loss, even now, you keep me warm.

Your voice is the light that silhouetted you.
Should it materialise, I would live on,
that my voice might reach you, wherever you are.

Resounding from the sun-drenched rails is the voice of that distant day.
Beyond those clouds, even now, there is the place of promise.

The loneliness that persists from some time ago is the spirit that grates me all around.
In the flow of time, I will surely lose you.

Your hair, with the world where cloud and sky have melted, is full of secrets.
Your voice, your gentle fingers and your wind-touched skin
will make my heart strong.

Causing my heart to quiver, even unto eternity, is your back turned to me.
My wish is merely that I live on,
that my song would reach you, wherever you are.

Your voice is the light that silhouetted you.
Should it materialise, even though we live in different places,
I would want to, gently and resolutely, live.