the quiet night of spring makes me completely childish.
the song of Lullaby makes me come dear.
Thoughts of my angry past come go astray,
the stars veiled at night are being kindled with hope.
the passing of the great comes like roaring waves of heaven
where can i seek for loyalty?
If those loyal are dead and gone.
am i going to a naked war?
a sheer lamp doesn't consider being alone standing.
the light that stands as my guide had fled
is this the only thing that i can conjure?
the end of the summit has come;
am i going to leave or not?
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