Covering my battered soul with a grin,
And I carry my longing to meet you soon in my spirits,
Maybe you'd heal my scars with your touch,
No, the timing have to match,
Yes, I have to wait,
If it means confronting the bruises on my body of someone's hate,
You will come won't you?
It's the least thing I expect life to do,
Granting the exemption,
To reach the day of explanation,
Yet here I wait for my closure,
What's that you ask?
My death, My life's dusk.