Maybe we'll meet again on rainy days,
With yearning hearts and tearful haze.
Soaked eyes, drenched streets that knew,
Will stand in silence, staring at you.

The quagmire in my mind may still,
As time bends softly to my will.
I wonder—will the flowers bloom?
Or fade again in morning’s gloom?

My heart will search for innocence lost,
For peace, no matter what the cost.
The storms inside, they’ll cease to roar,
And gently drift to calmer shore.