Mild Vine

West wind blows
Through soft green grasses,
Along the misty road
A fading figure passes,
An empty bottle,
A glass full of wine,
In the dark of the wall
There grows a vine,
Outside the window
World's drowned in rain,
All 'round's silent
Except a cry from the lane,
Time has lost its mind
Running down so long,
It confused 'bout what is right
Right seems so wrong,
It forgets from where it starts running
It doesn't know when it'll end,
Dreams are scattered along the horizon
Where at earth sky bends...

At the bottom-ground
Of my mind,
Where my vision
Is blind,
Nothing but emptyness
Filled in dark,
There's something choking
Blood-loss, a scar mark,
A voice in the air
Seems like crying,
In the deepest farthest ground
There's a mild vine,
Steps has lost
Where horizon died,
Look in the steps
Here Devil cried,
Look at the mild vine
What you find,
It is the birth
Of an Evil Mind...