2022.01.01.
Silent Weapon
As dusk approaches the remote corners of a cold and dry desert, the sky I watch alone keeps getting higher.From the past I can't remember to my countless scars, the beacon of farewell begins to rise.
The cold of the clinging wind, the evening dew that connect sage leaves, they sway to tell us when to depart. Shall we get going, then?
Heading to the next world is only for those who have accomplished all of their goals, so until then, let's live carefully.
On a certain Monday morning, grandpa muttered, 'today's a good day to die', that's right.
I stand up, a quiver sewn with spider's silk on my shoulder. A sky's worth of stars follow me, seeming like they might just fall. From a difficult future to those unforgettable sins, the omen of farewell has been let loose.
Continuing to believe in the crossed arrows, in order to be worthy of those crossed arrows, there won't be any turning back now. Shall we get going then?
Heading to the next world is only for those who have accomplished all of their goals, so until then, let's live carefully.
On a certain Monday morning, grandpa muttered, 'today's a good day to die', true.
Heading to the next world is only for those who have accomplished all of their goals, so until then, let's live carefully.
On a certain Monday morning, grandpa muttered, 'today's a good day to die', that's right.