Broken glass hearts
We are the broken glass hearts.
Let's pick up crystal shards together.
We at least have that in common,
If not our pains and trials.
Ah, bleeding hands always match bleeding souls and eyes.
Whether they are of blood or salty water,
They will eventually bind together,
So what is the difference?
Pain and utter misery are the same things, but are different words.
Written theory is the difference of accomplished practises.
Well, at least I can conclude that your torture of me is your own witch craft.
I hope you burn at the stake for all your sins.
I hope, then, your heart erupts into a million and one glass splinters
Which pierce your skin.
Now you can join the cult of matching
Hearts and hands.