I once heard a pianoist play of night and day,
He played the beat of drip-drop of the rain today,
He said “ill wrap you in my arms and ill cover your pure eyes. For you don’t need to wallow in pain for the sights they see.”
The horror that trembles down their spines,
All the tears combined make an ocean outside my window,
At night I hear the wonders and troubles of the ocean seeping through the cracks in waves.

For once again I heard the pianoist play,
But this time he played of life and death,
Two enormously meaningful words,
For even my own parents have protected me from knowing,
I ever wonder if there is a soul that ponders on Earth,
That holds the meaning in their hands,
With the grip so tight not even a ray of light could creep on through.

A gun raised in the air meant the meaning of an end and a new beginning,
But which would they want?
What would I want?
What would you want?