Yana

Yana

A precious old piano, it's hard to play,

So many scars, she can't display,

Old fine wine, it is addicted,

No matter who you are, she can't be predicted.

She's the rhythm to all my muse,

The morning cold breeze to my blues,

Tell her your stories, she can give the reason,

Not only that, you can learn a lesson.

Bunch of works, she's going to hate,

Lots of late night thoughts she'd create,

Family problems, she keep it inside,

Untill one day I came, she can't hide.

The moon and the stars is her judge,

For all the years, she had her grudge,

Her pillow is her eternity diary,

But all moreover, I'm her private psychiatry.

I wish there's another word than love,

For God who hear this in above,

Hope she will have the best in life,

When one day, I'm not alive.

Yana, I swear into her name,

A dark angel you soom became,

The world will crash half by your power,

I pray to God, you will always keep it lower.

Oh my dear sunshine, don't blunt you light!

To the stars I swear, you and me are alike,

In the dark alley, you keep me in your back,

You are a perfect me without a lack!

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