Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door
Won your approval, offered a kiss
Who is not born from death to seek life?
Nearly ended, nearly lived long
Countless self-inflicted wounds in dreams
Beneath the pen, the most unbridled love and hate
To carve out this fleeting existence
Only writing of you, untouched by dust
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
After a hundred years, united in one grave
I love your desolate eyes, retaining lingering warmth
A desolate heart, rushing through the wilderness
You brush off the dust, wipe away the marks on your fingers
Who is not fervent in youth?
Gazing upon a lifetime of gentle eyes
Can pen the harshest words
To mock this mundane world
Yet cannot bear to slight you in the least
I am one of myriad charms, truly no good person
Who could be so fortunate to misplace a life's devotion?
The one who first feels love
Stripped of their keen edge, becomes a subject
I love your desolate eyes, like the bright moon and stars
Traveling countless miles, knocking at the heart's door