Double masks, turning eyes-
now all they do is stare and ah,
my words to emptiness, my love to nothingness.
Not both sides of my mask is pretty:
one's a horrible smiling demon while another
a terrible frowning fallen angel.
Pitiful angel's wings are torn, her eyes haggard
and emotionally tired from all the happenings.
O, guilty demon's eyes are empty-
the forest that never sleeps, a dark misty fog.
And I'm here like an invisible ink,
like floating clouds and dripping rain,
my mind a tranquil maelstrom despair.
It's dark, dark and nothing more,
nothing to find so your search's meaningless.
I know they've tried their best and they're tired for now
but the search's over, there's nothing you can find.
Words don't reach the end of the abyss
nor do your petty lies even succeed in entering
so they gave up, went home, and still,
her sweet angel's voice can be heard only by those
who'd look into her eyes as they hold onto her shoulders,
face-to-face tell her she's not fine,
because she's broken to pieces ever since.