Close aweary eyes, let down your hair,
Allow your gory arms to rest,
Give free rein to genuine despair,
Open up your damaged chest.
Show me weakness, insecurity, regret.
It's not a sin to have help by your side.
Let my shoulder take your tired head.
It's alright.
- - - - -
Forworn hero, fed up with action,
Wandering along the needle-paved road,
Retaining stone facial expression
Under the moonlight, impassive and cold.
Evil was beaten by you, it was vanquished,
Still you don't feel the redemption.
So just stop tries to hide hallow anguish
Unless you have lethal intention.

Don't keep those tears inside of the shade,
Yeild them dampen your cheeks.
Rush into cuddle of those who await
You from conquering peaks.
Self-sacrifice is known to be stifling,
Accusing croud only jeers.
Yet we are people, selfish and trifling
With our own fads and fears.

Under black cloak there are hope and trust,
Don't be afraid of your ache.
You are so brittle, as if made of the glass,
Do not conceal it, or else you will break.
Grip both my hands and cry in my tum,
Be as helpless as you can be.
There is no need in remaining so strong,
At least not in front of me.