At the end of the horizon sun has set,

But it has promised to rise tomorrow.

At the curve of the chin tears have met,

But they speak that’s the end of sorrow.

Down at the hills the birds fly away,

But they are to turn up the very next day.

Toss the last coin in your hand,

It tells you to go beyond the sorrow land.

The dark clouds collide to part,

They ask you to be better and smart.

The last lamp down at the street,

Says the path ahead is sweet.

The last flower ready to wither,

Still hopes for a better weather.

The closed door may not open again,

But there might be another without pain.

Minds’ narrow lane broadens at the end,

So, there’s no need for you to defend.

The partial dirt will soon fly away,

To promise dear there’s yet another day.

The last raindrop sings with joy,

To tell you dear there’s a sunny day.

The first drum of happiness may begin to play,

To indicate dear there’s a better day.