The world, a fleeting tent pitched in time's span, Between sin's shadow and hell's fiery span, The sun, a reproach cast upon the land, And daylight, a shame too vast to withstand.
Oh, before tears cascade and sorrow's deep well, Speak, share wisdom before emotions swell. The tree, a witness to past transgressions' tale, While the breeze whispers folly, a tempting gale.
Autumn's moonlight, a blasphemy it unveils, Staining earth's canvas with sorrowful trails. Speak, before tears obscure the path ahead, As each sharp door reveals its tale of dread.
Love, a fleeting mist, beguiling and sweet, And the sky, a haven where sorrows retreat. Yet, before fate's tears carve destiny's line, Speak of love, before darkness does entwine.
From coffins, fountains of grief do rise, Mourners, the world's pride in sorrow's guise. Sell not your honor to the mirror's cold stare, For the wicked, in need, are ever in despair.
So, let not silence reign over love's tender plea, Say something about love, before tears engulf me!