The locked-away fiction and
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Reached out and touched "Today"
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The throbbing that chills my veins
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As if it's erasing my irritation.
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Tracing along my hand, a single loneliness
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While in a person's faded color.
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Stab a cold knife into Reasons.
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While the clear white wings are closed,
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My raised hand's bleeding blood spills.
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Reflected in your wavering pure blue eyes
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Is a painfully silent pulse.
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Till the goal of this meaning.
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"Today" is crushed and stained
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By the sobs assaulting my ears
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And the decided future.
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Those tens of thousands of piled-up worries,
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Cut through in a straight line
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Like you're screaming righteousness.
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An intermittent red wets this hand
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While taking on a person's warmth.
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This pain that can't be wiped off
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And the unknown regrets
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Are starting to destroy the flimsy laws.
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While opening the wounds that I touched straight-on,
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Your hazy eyes smiled in emptiness.
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What your pure blue eyes yearned for
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Was a painfully silent pulse.
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To the result of this meaning
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To a faintly swaying promise
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Swear that even if nobody saves you,
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The meaning of that pure white clear promise
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Will shine without relying on my raised hands.
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What can fill my empty chest
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Is a painfully simple thing.
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While the clear white wings are closed,
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My raised hands bleeding blood spills.
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Reflected in your wavering pure blue eyes
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Is a strong, definite pulse.
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Till the goal of this meaning
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