In my hand the flower begins to wither
In my grasp the tears seem to be falling
Fragments of the world we knew held in my hand
The world we knew now just a dream in slumber
Nothing is left of how things used to be long ago
It has all faded away to the place where spirits rest
That is the fate Heaven has chosen for our past
It is the destiny which makes the clouds weep
In my hand the flower begins to wither
In my grasp the tears seem to be falling