Everyone ignores me shaking my fingerless-hand in the bustle
I lie to myself that my fingers are rotten, and feel relieved
Say goodbye to the understanding
The hand we can hold never gets red
The hazy moon is hidden
Song of annihilation which rules the attrition spreads all over the world
Revolution of being solitude from you yourself starts
Irregularity of surface has disappeared
Complexion gets worse
Only water has told us the way wind went
On the border of the mirror which is almost transparent
Give a proper name for the pain of losing the means to get known