Getting used to a strange world, waking up the sealed longings.
How are you like, you who are destined to continue the pining in the slow-moving years?
Leaving behind a diary of languishing.
The wind strikes my face, bringing me back a long time to that day.
It turns out that love, exists for you.
Hidden in a few generations before the awakening of love,
It is revealed that time, shuffling past everyday,
Is simply looking forward to the point where we first meet.
Whose scent in the dream, revived the age-old memories of passionate love?
And now, whatever you are like, do you miss the past as well?
The words and sentences that you used to pine for.
The wind has swept away the past, but it is unable to vanquish our shared moments.
It turns out that love, exists for you.
Hidden in a few generations before the awakening of love,
It is revealed that time, shuffling past everyday,
Is simply looking forward to the point where we first meet.
Who borrowed the deeply hidden segment of love and forgot to return it?
So time is really an uncuttable circle,
I've met you thus, to continue our unfinished lament.
And i can still remember, the part when she died.
The pillow was all wet.
Labels: addiction.