Door - Yuichi Ushioda
Open the night sky door that echoes from the string's vibration
Smeared in lies the color of blood, flowing from the tip of my pen
My paper wings are burning
Learning the world of shoelaces come undone, flopping
Stepping on someone's memories aging in the corner of this room
My paper heart...
Tiny sins that fall into the cracks of clouds which flow from dream to dream
The admirable moon
Corpses of radio waves on the evening wind rattling the windows
Even if I close the creaky door, I can still hear your sleeping breath
If we go around that curve, it's already...
I grasp your cold wrist and straing my ears for your draining pulse
No one left to turn to.
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Let me know if you think I'm way off :X
I don't know if the translation is close or not, but as a poem it seems very sad.
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