The raindrops fall
On the crescent moon
Like teardrops from heaven.
The showers call
The angels from everywhere
For answers from here and there.

Weeping, the day
Weeping with the night
The current of life stays upright.
As the sand in the hourglass
Falls softly with each grain of time.
The tension feverishly only rises.

The crescent moon
Pales and darkens in the backdrop
In despair and lamentations.
As it is losing its soul
To the transient darkness of a new moon.
The shades of deceit fill its world.