Infected Rock

Traveling far, feeling close, she takes herself to wandering roads.

Tasting from inside, tasting from outside,
Touching, not touching... without running.

knowing... That life is a rewritten script,
and only the time shows similar note,
In a world hunted by ghosts, she keeps herself out of worrying.

She lifts her eyes to the sky, with a smile across her lips, In an attempt to check she can still touch the water.

...To see...the way...that will return...
...me...to her...