Words disappear, words weren't so clear, only echos passing through the night. The lines on my face, your fingers once traced, fading reflection of what was. Thoughts re-arrange, familar now strange, all my skin is drifting on the wind! Spring brings the rain and with winter comes pain. Every season has an end. I try to see through the disguise but the clouds were there blocking out the sun.

Yes, there's an end.