奔月/月歌行

Last night a bride, today a life wasted. Three days of tenderness, forging a myth of romance and charm, where laughter conceals tears aplenty. Let us, for a while, accompany the cycles of separation and union, sorrow and joy. Victories and defeats of the immortal and the demonic, let them be judged as they may.

As the moon rises beyond the willow tips, we hold hands and gaze, even in our departure, embracing the solitude of changing seasons. We ask, in the realm of the next life, what shall it be?

For you, I am foolishly infatuated; in return, I offer you melodies from my heartstrings.

A world personally forged, opportunities meticulously created, all for the sake of those to be safeguarded. Yet, with one’s own hands, those very individuals are propelled toward the predetermined culmination of destiny. Perhaps, from the outset, he should never have chosen to tread this path destined for solitude.