The End of the Scene

The candles have burned out
Bu the wind is still strong
There’s no hand to hold on
The streets lead to nowhere
Darkness has fallen
There’s no one to lead on
Dreams and illusions
Are gone
The swans lift their voices
In last song
The only thought
How to thrive:
Just to try
Keep yourself alive
The whispering mourning
Wipes the laughter away
There’s no will to go on
The fatal tomorrow
With no warning call
Will the strong carry on?