I am the four walls and you are the open field
Choke on my staleness while you are the intense summer breeze
You carve the path, I try to follow the lead
And yet I lose the way, at every turn that we meet.
You go on to touch the horizon but I am a dead end
There is rain your side, I have the barren lands
I am the withered lily and you are the blooming rose
Different paths and yet parallel we go!