"At this time my life felt like swimming during a rising tide, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move forward and I even let myself try to drown..."

"...but when I had woke up, the tide had pushed me back to that May inside my heart."

"I was wishing you'd look back, did you hear it?"

"I'll stop writing letters to someone that won't write back."

in the end, he continued to write her letters, for his prayers were answered;

to receive worse pains than her.

in the end, she continued to read his letters, for her prayers were answered;

to not be buried with him. 

After you died, I couldn't hold a funeral.

so these eyes that once beheld you became a shrine

these ears that once heard you became a shrine

these lungs that once inhaled your breath became a shrine

And so my life became a funeral.