Who am I?
Where did I come from?
I remember the sound of my laughter in that cold palace.
I remember the peach tree at the village entrance, towering several yards high.
I remember...
What else do I remember?
I gaze toward the path home, fifteen years from now.
The butterfly I summon, dressed in purple,
seems to be saying something
as it flies toward you in the distance.
You, dressed in red,
slaughter every last butterfly.
