【A dark August night, during a summer rain shower】

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The rain was perfect for hiding death.

Bleeding in an alleyway, clutching a starving stomach,

I would sometimes ask a God I didn't even believe in, under the guise of prayer.

I felt like a corpse.

Like I had been thrown away like scrap metal.

The silver mirror of my heart ached as if it would shatter,

And while everyone else ran, intoxicated by the speed toward the sun,

I lay there, intoxicated by the scent of the dead.

That was when you appeared.

You reached out to check my temperature and my face, then carried me away on your back.

Perhaps I simply grabbed the hand of salvation as easily as broken people do.

Perhaps that was our destiny.

I have no choice but to follow that destiny.