#chry3

Je suis né avec un cadre,

qui me restreint à moi,

que je n'arrive pas à faire une percée.

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Mon enfance encadrée,

de loin... il rend les gens jaloux,

de proche... il les rend envieux,

puis ils avancent.

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Comme le temps passe,

bien qu'il gagne sa popularité,

mais rien a changé.

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As pure as the starry Milky Way, Innocence always seems to keep exile company; whereas others kept close with the half-witted.

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Tears well up upon their unspoken sentiments; Proud well up upon these subnormals spoken words.

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Droplets flows, rivers streams... Soon, the sea's just too much to be indulged.

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Blood, finally stained his snowy footprints. The sentiments of the demise... The heartbreaks of his beloved.

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Wishing upon a petal, to swipe away your fallen tears;

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But one always says, never put your hope up high, as the petal may withers.

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It falls with your fallen tears; As your hope came crushing down.

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When the moon glows onto these petals of a chrysanthemums.

One may found their purities infectious,

One may steal the moon, for it shines too beautifully,

One may want it all to themselves.

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But one may not notice,

for they were far too mesmerized by the glows...

it will always fade away...

and replace by the light of a new day.

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That's when one deceived thyself,

blinded by their own beliefs,

hibernate the truth,

till one can once again capture the essence of a periodical illusions.

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Belief compelled through illusions;

melancholies' song be forever engraved;

Siren may be your only savior.

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