Heavenly wind blowing the trends of time . Send this feeling to the moon. Gracefully just like you.
A sturdy flower with colors so bright. But before the waves of speech can reach, they vanish from their delicate stem.
If i can't become a butterfly to fly your sky, i don't care if i become the demon that receives that pain, that sorrow.
Dreams are an instant. This heart will...... remain as a chrysalis.
To the end of the time. The misty moon tears out.