Step into the mist, where the sound of waves surges.
There stands a lonely lighthouse, the place where she is imprisoned.
No one forced her to stay.
Gray feathers have weathered the storm,
quietly tending the last words of the departed.
She drapes the past around herself,
but delusion blinds her, and she stumbles through the dark.
She has locked herself away.
Only that beacon of light
keeps urging her on:
Fly! Fly!
Fly beneath the clouds!
Fly across the vast sea!
Shatter the silence, tear through the gloom.
Turn your wings into blades,
and let the roar of cannons echo through the sky!
People far away! You have never seen her true form,
but the lighthouse reduced to ruins in the great fire
makes you understand:
She has set out, flying toward a shore she has never reached.
She is a free bird.
