The Final

The intention is clear, I stre... with this left hand, umable to be worded
Every time I bleed, there lies the reason to live... And I discover words being so vivid and bright

Even love ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaning that I lived in my hand, it will only be known as flowers of vanity

the final

One by one it multiplies... why be a sad bait ?

Deep within the hell of my heart.... I can't go back
A self-torture loser, not being able to see tomorrow
Suicide is the proof of life

Even loved ones scatter like petals from flowers in my hand
So even if I engraved the meaing that I lived in my hand, the petals will just scatter as flowers of vanity

so I can't live
What's lost can't be born again

A song that's not even seeking the proof of living

Let's bloom flowers of attempted suicide...........