Religion, as one will believe
is their way to true purity...

You know I can't be everything you want
I know you hate when I make a mistake...

Not knowing who you were at first
when you said my name out loud...

Winter melody haunts
It's moon beaming bright...

Will anyone miss me?
Or am I just a myth...

Questions loom about the end of life
Who will die and who will survive...

Like a late blooming bud
Like a fire washed by rain...

Crying, my hands are stained in black
Hurting, there's nothing more to do...

Don't ask about my past
no sooner will I last...

Tears that have lingered
when awaiting for fate...

*A mother who was killed for helping her children...

You are a bee,
strumming an out of tune harp...