Softly, I ask, for why do I feel sorrow,
Is it from years that have passed,
Or could it be the time that I borrow?

Quietly, I ask, for why do I feel empty,
Is it from my mind that seeks peace,
Or is the beauty of a flower not plenty?

Faintly, I ask, for why do I feel weary,
Is it from the pursuit of my journey,
Or the endless burdens I still carry?

Lastly, I ask, for why do I feel blue,
Is it from my heart that is broken,
Or is it from when I trace back--
was when I lost you.

(Written for the painting titled ‘Feeling Blue’)