If, my love, you choose one thing to know,

Know this, my love, of many you are one

And when summers heat melts into the snow

So will so many ones turn into none

Just as the thunder spring rains become dry

So does the past grow old and start to rot

To claim importance is to claim a lie

To scream at the wind is to scream for naught

My love, I often shape myself a hero,

For that to lend my strength to those in need

But we both reap just as much as we sow

By history no heroes have been seen

Just as the skies hold billions of stars

So does the sun feel futile in her light

Never ending space makes her feel small

Blind, my love,to how her light brings life

Blind until you showed me what life’s for

How one may leave no footprints but much more