A hollow landscape, an illusion on crumbling sands
I painted alone, a pure white world
Having lost everything, in time frozen
Let the end be proclaimed, quietly toward the edge of emptiness――――
A night when I once silenced my voice, cold and unable to sleep
A speeding flash, sharpened to a keen edge
The colors that color the final moments scatter in an instant-the aesthetics of the end
Vividly, I paint the "unfading blossoms"...
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In the withering moments, countless phantoms flit about
A closed world, where truth and illusion mingle
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As if everything were brushing past this hand
Wishes go unfulfilled, toward the edge of the fading end――――
Someday, having lost the sky, only pride remains on the earth
That is a noble afterglow; its radiance remains, ah... unshaken
The sound that colors the final moments, fearlessly scatters-a graceful wind [B e T e p]
Carrying the fulfilled "unfading feelings"...
A fragile illusion that rots and perishes on the crumbling sands
Now, shape the words of atonement and carve them
Bury me in this withered place
Let me sleep, as if embraced――――
A breath that falters reflects even the shadows
It conducts the end, a definite interference with life
The wind of ruin calms my cheek――――
A night when I once silenced my voice, cold and unable to sleep
A speeding flash, sharpened to a keen edge
In the final view, the untainted Refulgence of the end
Vividly, I paint the "unfading blossoms"