I sat,
on my window sil,
and as so,
the sun set over the hill.

The first,
rays fo day,
graced my face,
nothing more to say.

The strees,
dead as midnight,
soon filled with souls,
for another day to fight.

The birds,
singing in a choir,
inside me lit,
a lively fire.

My tea,
cold as stone,
the best friend,
here on earth, all alone.

I sat,
on my window sil,
waiting to fall,
my destiny to fulfill.