Time Has Passed

April Fall's Month

I am tree
It's going summer but my leaves
Is it the power of Gravity?
Or the power of the Century?
Getting ugly
The increasing number of mischief
Is it the hour of Solitary?
Or the hour of Creativity?

Is it you, Gravity?
Gravity,
I don't know if you're with me
But I think it's the opposite
Pulling down my body
Fooling around my belly
Coaxing my leaves to fall
Fallen leaves, all in all, it's four
Four times on the rock stumbled
Four times my stomach rumbled

Gravity,
I don't know why you're pulling me back to fall
To be in the hole of the culture of this world
I think you are as dark as my roots
Pushing me to walk in these world with my foot

But maybe it's Century
Century,
Is it you, who makes my leaves
From the tree to leave, leave me?
Does it mean I am growing?
Or more like I am decaying?
Will fresh green leaves show?
Or branches break at snow?
Snow is the opposite of my color
Oaths that I broke like the forbidden doors

Century,
I don't know if I will still be living?
But dread is the subjugating feeling
I need the assurance that I am growing
I don't want my branch to end up burning

Or is it Solitary?
Solitary,
Is it you that my leaves have fallen?
That by this spring, there is pourin'
Pouring of wickedness dropped at my leaves
I witnessed how loneliness cop and deaf me
Was not sane, times four, it left my spirit
I was alone, silence's core is a wild ferret

Solitary,
Leave me alone, I need someone
I need to grow, needs rain and sun
I am a thirsting tree, I am not an island
How could you whisper, "I need no one"?

But I think it's Creativity
Creativity,
You made a hole where I stepped on
And I end up in the Wonderland
There's a new world, brighter sun
That all of the sufferings are gone
But this world still isn't perfect
When there's this arousing of conflict
The world stumbled and crumbled, like my feet
When I realized that my imagination's a wicked witch

Creativity,
I'm begging you to get out of my mind
Stop navigating it far away from the right
With your evil force, my leaves are in flight
Leaving me till the day comes that I will die

I am tree
It's going summer but my leaves
Is it the power of Gravity?
Or the power of the Century?
Getting ugly
The increasing number of mischief
Is it the hour of Solitary?
Or the hour of Creativity?

I failed at doing good deeds
I have fallen four times with my hands
Spring but my falling leaves
It is my April Fall's Month
But I hope that May
Would bring forth a brighter day