When the day sets to rest
Who does not look for the night?
And when the leaves fall to bed
Who does not look for the winter?
When the sickness comes
Who does not look for symptoms?
And when blood coughs out
Why would you not search for death?
Is the truth so terrifying
To ignore it till your dying bed?
Why still water the birch tree
When its roots are rotten?
Why keep walking
When you see the dark end?
Why do I still sit here
Waiting for you to answer my question?
