melancholic drive

The wanderer passed by
old rags, tears in the eye,
nothing to devote for life.
Is he about to die?

Did he Lost all the others?
O, Hidden odds of life!
Take again into a melancholic drive,
But the cold wind keeps me alive.

And I drive behind diverging roads.. 
In silence, a sound of his tear drops
-like Metal coins, like bullets shuts,
Pours in my heart like bloody cuts.

And I drive thousands miles..
And I see the Devil's Death.
He begs for life in voiding breath,
He begs for peace,
He begs for release.

And I drive to the City of Rose..
Where god's eyes do not close,
Where soul flies where it want to be,
Where we believe in what we see,
Where the wanderers don't cry.

And I drive where he passed by
Where the last kiss like a flame of the sky
Melt the frozen lake in you and I!
Where the melancholic drive will die,
Where no one has ever loved but you and I.

Photo of City of Rose/city of Petra)