End is same

When she roves the path, the sun delights
And it's a morning, which never ever end
As far as she walks, before the winter light
Brings the smiles, when sun melts her clouds

Book she holds and its luminous flying words
Made this way, and her journey is a tale
Which whispers by the wind with its chords
He is her map and she flows with his wails

A lonely heart or a troubled head, which seize
Her love and her trapping muse, hide in depth
Where ocean meets her sun, before her ease
Which, bring the past, has the colour of death

Make her a way, before I reach the end
Paths aren't alike but the end is same