An ancient season returns,
an old season again,
a breeze laden with memories.
An ancient season returns,
a breeze laden with memories.
Such a confluence is rare,
their presence and solitude too.
An ancient season returns,
a breeze laden with memories.
When lashes begin to weep,
with showers of remembrance,
how sweet it all becomes then,
even the heartbreak of the beloved.
An ancient season returns,
a breeze laden with memories.
Two forms appear in this blurred mirror,
two forms appear in this blurred mirror,
one who was mad for you,
has come along with me.
Such a confluence is rare,
their presence and solitude too.
The gain of silence, a long, deep hush,
the gain of silence, a long, deep hush,
we heard their words,
we spoke our own truths.
Such a confluence is rare,
their presence and solitude too.
An ancient season returns,
an old season again,
a breeze laden with memories.
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