Hiding
The wind blows,
How cold it is!
Yet the child wandered still,
Under the Autumn trees;
Made for solitude,
Born for no purpose,
It wanders far, yet none watches.
The sister rushes round,
Gracing across the floor,
While thoughts fought in her mind,
Tearing the calm.
Yet though pruposeful she seemed,
She felt not the need,
To be wanted, and to live.
The mother watches,
Sewing by the fire,
Her weary eyes travelled
Tracing the steps of her daughter.
Her son was gone,
Her youngest lost,
Yet she never let her tears fall.
But the curtains fall, she lies alone,
Just like her daughter,
In the other room.
She weeps, and weeps,
Yet found no console,
And there in the room,
She concealed herself so.
posted by Shiroi-chan @ 4:43 PM
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