Perhaps

I wonder what place we have in this world.

Well, it's not like I cared too much about it to begin with.

​

From ashes to ashes,

Dust to dust,

This body of mine would one day

Break apart and fly away,

Fly away into the blue sky above,

​

Never to be heard from again

While the song of the mourning dove

Is sung within the glen.

​

Like the cherry blossom tree's flowers,

A human life is as fleeting

And as beautiful

As those flowers.

​

Year after year do the petals fall,

Making us ever closer to our end.