Yaketsuku Kaen

A: Of getting my delicate Heart broken, over again, by the one I'm fond of.

A Little Room on an Empty Street

Looks out to the June nights filled with heat.

The night is calm, the sky is clear,

While the summer wind treads lightly to hear

The ominous hooting of the owl,

And the Mountain Wolf's sorrowful howl.

The room sits there, alone,

Reminiscing about a certain someone -

Whom Time and Tide had long done -

'Til all, but the crickets, had gone.

What was once an abode of enlivening Laughter

Has fallen to ruins for the souls had died after,

Without a trace of their existence

In the house within the Old Gray Fence.

The glow from its walls have long faded,

And they speak of days that have long been dead.

The serene Moonlight pours through the window,

Making a patch on the Single Bed

While the gleaming reflections show

All those damaged Souls who had patiently waited.

Those peaceful Mornings and enlivening Evenings,

Which had many years ago taken a vow

To live till Infinity, have turned to lifeless things.

All that was there had gone, and now,

Nothing is left but a Single Bed,

With broken Dreams and damaged Souls -

Yearning to rise up again

From the Eternal Sleep of Death.