So many kind of marbles red and blue are scattered all over the burned sandbox

The heart of a girl who is collecting around carefully is still blind

Both little hands will not reach Noah

Bottomless search changes into conviction and skin

So many shooting stars shining and disappearing Slowly slowly changes ocean into the huge sky

The place where nobody knows the destination and does not feel the flow of time, either

Someday the colors and shapes and memories will be pulled by gravity and all grows a leaf of none

The Angels who wore a scale welcomes in by the silent funeral procession

Little sandals will not move automatically

As much as the number of marbles the little girl had in both hands full


The beautiful flowers will bloom here soon

So many kinda of flowers of sorrow, red and blue