The valleys grown old and bitter, but it still has its charm
Cherry blossoms are spread like wild
The same ones I planted as a child
Back when I could do no one no harm

Rain sprinkles life into the new plants
And also leaves my footprints on the ground
Out here it’s quiet but also full of sound
I wish to go back home, but I know I can’t

The air around me feels all so familiar
There’s something pretty about a flower bloom
Like an unborn child in a mother’s womb
If only he hadn’t killed her

Why’s the grass look so strange Mama?
It’s burnt and dead
Or is it tricks inside my head
Is this the feeling of trauma?

One day I’ll find a way to run
Far from the guilt of leaving him
But I couldn’t do it, not with the world looking so dim
So, I leave my sins in the hands of my son