So many people,
so many memories,
I thought to myself

Regrets and deaths
of both rage and sorrow
is the fruit in the path I misled.

It wasn't pretty flowers
in a pretty meadow,
it was the unbeatable power
of the mirror's echo

This echo, for some unforeseen mistake,
is what had led me to the room.
The water-filled room,
The drowning room.