Lonely

Holding a burnt bouquet of flowers Amongst a crowd of busy holds Gazing down, thier eyes so cold I kneel down and it starts to shower The drops plunging through me like As if I was made of nothingness Crying in rain so none see my madness Monotonic chant "it's all in my head" Standing by a bridge in the dark place Whom I even going to give this crown? Threw my burnt flowers away down They fade as they fall down out of lace Then there are ghost voices that say "I care about you", are they real? Or they are there just for appeal? The gleams of light shrinking to a ray The sun is setting and I fear that I won't be able to see it rising again the next day