The Color of Despair

The Color of Despair


The sorrowful waves of yellow leaves,
As if life's weariness has no end.
On the bridge's bend, still hope lies,
Leading far away, where only darkness blends.

The sunlight is pale today,
As if burdened by cloudy memories.
The branches of the trees are lifeless,
Their leaves hold only sighs.
This path seems familiar, of many days,
Footprints of despair etched in the dust.

The storm in the courtyard of the mind has ceased,
Now only the reign of silence prevails.
A shadow trembles alone on the water's surface,
Like a broken reflection within.
The trees standing on the bank,
They too seem to have nothing more to say.

The song of life stopped long ago,
Only gray pictures on the pages of memory.
At the end of bright days,
This darkness feels so much more familiar.

Yet, a faint hope floats in the distance,
Like dew clinging to dry leaves.
Perhaps again on some morning,
The banks of this sad river will be filled with light.

But today, only stillness, only paleness,
This picture of nature painted in the color of despair.
That melody plays deep within the heart,
Which only speaks of days that are lost.