On the twilight, the head of a girl, asking for buying the voice I heard. Or, on the time who he is, the head of a girl, asking for buying the voice I heard.
In the front of our bedroom, given her punch, and this morning has come. Or, before our affaire, given her punch, and this morning has come.
Of adolescence, by his wind in the empty feelings, a kamaitachi the yokai is here.
In memory of his late elder sister, strafed from the enemy, and persimmons plucked off.
The head of an oni the ogre appeared, five of her zuijin the guardian, blown off with his wind.