So, a soft song with a hint of melancholy began to sound in this pitch-black night.
"In that touch of gentleness, one glimpses"
"The fact that we are not strong"
...
"Gentleness gradually"
"Melts in the glass"
"Tossing and turning yet beyond control"
The girl closed her eyes gently, her voice tender yet so fragile, under the dark night sky where flecks of light appeared. They swayed in the cold wind, like candle flames that might go out at any moment, and then these will-o'-the-wisps circled, revealing the contours and shapes of the wind in the night, slowly drifting apart.
...
"This world is not so beautiful"
"Always following a twisted system"
"Yet unable to deceive the voice that comes from within"
"It's precisely because there's still gentleness in the heart"
"That weakness can continue to exist"
