We, dear love, are fire.

Discharge, ignite, blast,

Combusting reactions subside.

The story is same as the past,

Our seeds grow, live, and die.

I’ve always burned bridges in war,

Grounded but heart in the sky.

The story is same as before,

I love you but now we are wise.

Crumble at once as we fall,

Our ruins have become great walls.

It is time to rebuild with the moon,

We naturally sing to her tune.

And in the valleys out west,

We shall feast, find peace, and rest.