In the time of need, I’ll keep myself stranded under these trees,

Longing for the day, just wondering how it feels.

Maybe it’s good to feel like this,

Or maybe it’s a silent scream—to go out and live with what’s left.

The beautiful laughs with friends,

The joy of meeting strangers,

Sharing stories under a night sky so endless and free.

Oh, to be understood with no expectation,

Like a book you open and close,

Without doubts, without needs.

Maybe this world is truly wonderful—

The people we meet, the stories we share,

The dreams we chase despite everything.

Maybe this time, I will step out of these shadows beneath this tree.

But I hope it remembers—

The shadows were dark, that’s true,

Yet I still return, whether the sun shines

Or the sky pours its sorrow upon me.

Because these trees hold my initials,

Etched deep, like the stories they tell,

Stories no one else ever will.

Each leaf that falls from their branches

Makes me wonder—

How many stories can I carry within me?

And now, I have become just like these trees,

Sharing a peaceful shadow,

Dropping my stories into the world,

Ending it all with what I have left in me.