Who is taking you by hand
Who is taking you by hand
I think. This world is very excellent. But it does not belong to me. I am only that then one that is used to staying alone with one’s own shade is dull and quiet. A kind of distance that can’t be gone beyond. Can be compared to oneself and one’s own shade. Unreal in the tired out brain to melt, you. A blank finally. I have nothing. A kind of empty one is kept watch. Thought that loved it correctly. The loneliness got but it is so long.
Who is taking you by hand, walk in the sky in November?
Why is a lot of so sad
Do not want to insist on moulding drearily
Those oath not explained yet
Bury it in the heart at this point
For her.
I have been already dog-tired
Under the curtain of the young body
Can’t cover up
It is that heart having experienced many vicissitudes of life
With no longer young soul
Cannot help but long for your monarch and wonder the vacant fatherless shadow sigh to it!
God says: Juvenile people, why sigh? You are still so young!
Young?
I force a smile, have nothing to say in reply ……
Turn round quietly
In the twilight sunset of the blood red the setting sun
Think of that four leaf grasses descending slowly and lightly quietly
Wantonly ferocious when taking the post as the tear
How helpless in this world it is
Helpless in this world
Helpless man
Need tear to tell the gloom in the heart too
But a man
Will bear firmly in mind soon
After crying
Wipe the universe tear resolutely
Shoulder that one’s own weather while exerting!
It is sad to use and melt warmly
Perform and count as the color drearily with the passion
Will promise to bury with one’s own hands
Wipe the universe cheek, face the setting sun, the way of life of going on and walking
I believe that if have chance with
The No. of our life must have a place that cross
I expect.
I wait.
If have no chance
Hope his hands can bring the warmth that I have had fantasies of to you ……
There is not a connection for a long time
It dares to be but unwilling
It is sentimental that it is touched that unwilling oneself that silk in the abyss of the mind ……
How long it is to wonder that will insist on
Perhaps time is the last answer ~~
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