Your tears come often,
much like the problems
you help to create.
Your weeping designed
to be heard by those
who will listen.
You ignore the poison
which drips from your lips -
it’s not made clean by tears.
Eternal Rain
Like many tapping fingers made of rain-
They fall and foam against my burning brain.
The melody of your grace swells high-
A fog of distant memories surrounds me.
Lift me into a cloud of burdened thoughts-
Your muse will bring me home again.
永遠の雨
雨で作られた多くのタッピング指のように-
それらは私の燃えている脳に対して落下して泡立ちます。
あなたの恵みのメロディーが高く膨らむ-
遠い記憶の霧が私を取り囲んでいます。
重荷を負った思考の雲に私を持ち上げてください-
あなたのミューズは私を再び家に連れて来ます。
You must have paid someone to write this for you, I dont hate the game.
Somewhere in the distance,
our destination drifts beyond
the reach of our persistence,
choosing to accept existence.
