"The Lone Samurai"
By Kumo Okano
As I look up at the dark night sky,
Into the semi-starless night sky,
I held up my blood-stained hands;
I can't stop nor know when I began.
My sword in one hand, by pride in the other,
Both stained with the innocent blood of another.
The hanging snowflakes tell me,
The dim and bright star tell me,
Even that round full moon,
They tell me, "I forgive you,"
But still I feel so callous
Like I have no reason to exist.
Each family I've torn apart,
Each and every broken heart
I regret to create,
Every being whose life I take.
No more, no equal, no less.
I no longer wish to be merciless.
But if I could change into another man,
If only there was a chance,
It will no longer be said that I
Am the one they call the lone samurai.
By Kumo Okano
As I look up at the dark night sky,
Into the semi-starless night sky,
I held up my blood-stained hands;
I can't stop nor know when I began.
My sword in one hand, by pride in the other,
Both stained with the innocent blood of another.
The hanging snowflakes tell me,
The dim and bright star tell me,
Even that round full moon,
They tell me, "I forgive you,"
But still I feel so callous
Like I have no reason to exist.
Each family I've torn apart,
Each and every broken heart
I regret to create,
Every being whose life I take.
No more, no equal, no less.
I no longer wish to be merciless.
But if I could change into another man,
If only there was a chance,
It will no longer be said that I
Am the one they call the lone samurai.