The clock tower resounds,
gray hairs are on...

Who's that man walking
heavily on the ground...

When the sand is rustling its grain
through feet that dance a drink...

Walks the rain with the age
breathing the air of earth...

Darkness arrives
at the soliloquy iced...

A quick fire was entered
into a doll-face weather...

Looking the days aside,
just feeling a miracle...

Worked labyrinth,
door of traveling...

There's when blind crashes against
towers and blading lovers...

Day begins dilated,
dreamer eyes at shadow...

What is that rain
falling like swords...