蕾は依然として閉じ
銃口は向けられ微動だにせず
両手に握りしめて居る
永遠と待つ、その先は知れない
一瞬の安楽、その先は無
挟まれて
花はまだ咲かない
しかし
まだ枯れていない
銃はまだ火を吹かず
銃はまだ火を吹かず
しかしまだ、
引き金の指も離れず
今
信じられるのは
過ぎし日々の永さこそ
望むのは
花よりも銃よりも
己を裏切らないことだと気付く
✻………✻………✻………✻
Dearest, Today.
I hold a bud that is still tight,
and I hold a pistol to myself on the other hand.
I'm not sure the future is light,
and the waiting time is feel like everlasting.
but after the eazy time, that's an instant, I'm sure there are no future.
I'm sandwich myself between the tow.
the bud doesn't flower yet,
but
it's not dead yet.
the bullet doesn't shot yet,
but the aim is fixed yet.
now,
I can believe because of the length of past times.
I noticed my wish
is not the flower or the pistol, but the belief in myself.
す