اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Angel,
Her nonexistent soul sheds tears that burn,
The smile she wears,
Makes graves,
This weary night her figure turns into a truthful shade,
Then fades without notice,
Her haunting laughter still echoes,
In the void,
And we,
The spirits dwelling in the gloom and cold of the night,
We wail together with her,
With no voice, until our ethereal figures disappear,
Forever to be lost.
