Feet are cut... by melancholia-infested memories.
Is this my savior? My never-ending heaven I'm supposed to be in?
No, God never answered me.
Here I am, death on earth. Earth I am, both of us blend... to eternity.

No curse, no bliss.
No death to undying crisis.
You will never get the key, not on last blink.
Die, girl with a poem. Die on her last poem.

Salvation whispers.