Falling into the trap of impulse
Floundering in the swamp of doubt
Sitting on a pillow of needles
Standing up is nothing special,
Even when I ran, it was in the right spot.
The times of anger that deceived me
only increasing the sense of urgency,
Engraved as a cry of sorrow
In the end, leaving nothing behind
It only adds to their desperate thirst.
The unavoidable reality
I try to shake the doorknob in confusion,
Heading toward a crossroads filled only with opposites
The last night of another day of choice
In the end, I am walking toward dawn.
As indifferent time passes,
Ahead of the ongoing countdown of life
As always, the sun blazes
Only then did I live in vain,
I quietly reflect on my mistake.
It’s just a twisted hope.
Because I still have courage left,
Starting again from now on,
Clasp your hands and offer a prayer of thanksgiving,
A small blessing, I am satisfied.