On a lonely hilltop,
Lying behind the purple evening sky,
Greeting gently, full of stories,
Waiting for the night, in solemn silence.
The wind greets the trees,
The rustling sound becomes rhythm,
Fading purple sky,
Holding on to hope that never ends.
A fading light, Illuminates the footprints on the ground,
This hill is a silent witness,
In every memory engraved in the twilight.
And I, standing here,
Breathe in the beautiful twilight air,
Realizing that this purple sky,
It is a new promise, which is always kept.