I owe memory no naught
the joyful sings of old days
oh! insane long ages
I perish almost to their winds
tossing to be tamely thoughts
Fantasy that rebirths me
Crossing curse on a cursed land
Gently, looked and held arms
I rather to say I do not know where this journey would end.
The graveyard or the warm heaven’s arms?
I still do not know if I want to fight and hold my weapon high.
I am still wounded from some of previous fight
I DO KNOW WHERE TO START OR BEGIN