The swaying asymmetrical trajectory, a rainbow shaded in the prelude
The terminus of light remains distorted
Deceiving the visualized illusion
In the dim abyss of fictional darkness
Break through the world once captured someday!
Ah… Break up the fake! Stand in the truth!
And you will die in your sins.
Cross yourself to the absent god
Does the voice playing the awakening poem wield a blasphemous sword?
Chain up the pain! Stand up to the sin!
Let no one lead you astray.
This sacred oratorio with you, severed and isolated
The moon illuminates the melancholy
The eve of the vividly shining tomorrow
In the space between lies and ideals, a thirst sways at a lethal dose
Sweep away the terminus of light
Taking each other’s hands, leaning on each other’s backs
Decorated with contradictions and vanity
Slice through the world smeared with deception!
Ah… Break up the pale! Stand in the Cross!
And you will live in your sins.
Now kneel to the imaginary god
The seconds hand marking the time of revolution tainted with the color of sin
Shake up the fate! Stand up to the tale!
Don’t be afraid, only believe.
If it ends here, that’s life too
Just standing there unscathed
There’s no future given, so…
At least sing a parting song to the utmost end
Writing a new intersecting line—–
Pierce through the sky—– Now, with these hands
Cross yourself to the absent god
Does the voice playing the awakening poem wield a blasphemous sword?
Chain up the pain! Stand up to the sin!
And read the God’s metaphor.
This sacred oratorio with you, severed and isolated
The moon illuminates the melancholy
The eve of the vividly shining tomorrow