"Without her I am not whole", I say,

Standing on top of the world,

No one but me to watch the final sunset

Of a pitiful day I wish I could forget.

I can stand on my own without Freya's aid,

Yet I miss her so dearly despite knowing

I'll be back home as a better man.

Whoever brought you here and now,

Nobody gives an answer, nobody ever does.

In my silence, I find one of the few truths in life

Is that, not matter how loud is your shout,

It isn't as loud as the fall from grace,

The madness, the thoughtfulness

Of a man whose worst enemy is himself.

So God forgive Burmecia and all the wretched souls

Who were never born in a land filled with pain and remorse.

Immerse your soul in love, feel happiness,

And for every breath of mine that breaks a sound,

I ask "Whose sorrow is that hanging on the wall?";

Then I look around and I see no barriers left.

Below me I find the silhouette of a traveller in a mountain range,

Maybe he knows I'm here, maybe he doesn't,

But if there's one thing that remains true

Is that all of the Burmecians who are yet to be forgiven

Know, since birth, that consciousness is the seed of contradiction.

We were born in a world full of deception,

A world where the murderer has more right than the victim,

And for centuries we endured much suffering

Until our very history ceased to exist

As a result of years of fragility and isolation

Which led to our complete annihilation.

From here, I see the wealth blaming the needed for their condition,

So many birds in search of a cage to avoid the low sun

Whose heat permeates through every solid matter.

I see many souls who oppose the kingdom come as dictated by a few,

Sisters slaying her brothers and mothers slaying her sons,

But soon we'll become nothing, we may as well become one.

We don't know, we should try to be pursuing life instead of death

Because when we die, it's over, but life always continues

And if we may exist for a few more centuries,

What's worth living in a world that preaches entropy,

Humiliation and the hunger of those that live in agony?

So God forgive Burmecia and every life we ruined on this mortal plane,

The universal emptiness that resides within the flesh

Glows like the funeral pyre of a hundred men.

I'm not ready for the final sacrifice despite my strength at home

Not being enough to suffice, but I see that I'm not alone

In my doubts, they can be shared to someone who will understand

The kind of pain we inflicted on others and as well as in ourselves.