A boy sits in his room of bereavement
Cluttered by his thoughts and reveries...

Black winged angel
My blood wrought genocide...

A boy has a problem
He's stuck and confused...

"The sky is darkened by black clouds
The fertile land, made of crimson ice...

Despite the fact that we're good friends
I'll always be here for you until the end...

The Darkness is illuminating
Each of whom is excavating...

Oh, how it must feel...
To know not what true love truly is...