The Soul That Cannot be Whole

The night rain starts to weep,

A promise that the sky can't keep.

Just a little moment feels so bright,

Only last in the mind beyond the sight.

Each drop strucks the window glass,

Calls forth a vision from the past.

A memory of your gentle hand,

The only warmth in this cold land.

I hear the voice, a serene sound,

When flower scents were all around.

You were the joy and peace, it's true,

Where all my brightest moments grew.

But that graceful echo cannot stay,

The chilling mist washes it away.

A photograph begins to fade,

But the memory cannot degrade.

The night rain feels like the soul,

Crave a story that can not be whole.

For the warmth in this life vanish,

Leave the soul cold and the joy perish.