Life passes by,
with smooth tragedy,
in front of eyes.
You are helpless.
We are sorrowful.
He wins.
We pay costs.
This is a circle,
with an end,
full of loss.
As I see my hands,
are full of hopes.
But eventually, I know
will be snatched
with a blow.
Why were we bonded,
together with love and affection?
When we as puppets,
have to move in your direction.
leaving behind our own world,
one day, we all
eventually come to
your deception.
