Forgive me, beloved for...
Forgive me for my hunger...

Ash rains down on us
as the world crumbles into nothingness...

Scarlet torrents of stained water
rushed down the wheel of infinity...

There are demons clinging to my soul,
scratching and tearing at it...

Is it blood or wine
that dyed the holy rivers...

Pitiful Maya, hunted by the Heavenly Host:
proclaimed Tyrant who defy Heaven's Will...

Her smile collapsed under the gentle touch
from that hand, pale like carved from milky jade...

Sister, O Sister Weaver, how my heart aches
when I watch you weave the vicissitudes of life...

Bless the kindness in your heart, Sister;
I never could love as vividly as you do...

My heart is empty; my soul is divided.
I am but a hollow shell of my former selves...

It's almost time for your funeral, my little...
and though it's too far away for me to be there...

Sometimes it feels like my soul is a record...
Not some fancy state-of-the-art machinery...