Difficulty

Wielding the brush to paint in vivid strokes,

Words could not capture all the world's desolation,

The winds of time swept across the pages of history,

And the road to the past lay beyond sight.

When the final notes faded, all went their separate ways,

No matter how much I scattered, the sorrow of homesickness remained,

In what year did that tale of wind and snow unfold?

Now, the sounds of home still rang as they always had.