Not fate

The terrible wind moans and whistles, Bends trees to the ground. He seems to be looking for something. Maybe past love...

Tearing grass, perhaps angry, And sadness is visible in the soul. Doesn't want to put up with her Disappearing quickly into the distance.

What motivates him? So terrible! Or is it pain from wounds... I don't dare explain clearly But most likely it’s a hoax...

Not fate. Why suffering? Cross it all out and forgive me! No words are needed to justify it, Just let go right away...

It’s hard, of course, scary. It cannot be otherwise... Only this is very important: Your life is not like in the movies.

The wind is restless again There's whistling everywhere. Tired! Yes, it’s easier for him: free... Only I didn’t stop loving...