The time to soar up to the sky,
Has long pass the age of the cursed one,
There is no flower the fairy long for,
No heavens to live for.

The anchor will only grow stronger,
Unless one is willing to rid of all emotions,
All bonds, all insecurities, all hate, all joy,
Rid of one's connection to the world,
And live in a world of isolation.

Living is but a dream,
A broken mirror,
A pathetic sight,
Ah, how I long for an eternal slumber.