Never would I have imagined running into you in a place like this. It must be fate. But you cannot rest your wings yet... Fly home to your mother, my little canary. I, too, will welcome you home with open arms.

Peace is but a shadow of death, desperate to forget its painful past... Though we hope for promising years. After shedding a thousand tears, yesterday's sorrow constantly nears. And while the moon still shines blue, it will turn to scarlet hue.

I find this quite pleasant. It is as if the raindrops are blessing our victory.