Crossing the Bridge of Sakura, as it blossoms, I see you. You stand alone, dressed in blue, cloudy skies waiting for old dreams to fall between us as pink begins to pour. Waiting alone, as if time had no purpose, but yours. If all these years I've walked alone, what is the meaning of crossing alone this bridge of sakura blossoms? Is it you? I see you, Sakura, but how can I know it is truly you? It all seems so distant from our memories, forgetting old dreams that once fell between us as it began to pour. Tears grew into rivers, rivers growing into vastness, you, a vastness that makes you untouchable, a regretting, not crossing the Bridge of Sakura, as it blossomed, I lost you. What can be lost when there is nothing to find but amour? You, amour, a memory standing, dressed in blue, unsettling old dreams that once fell between us as it began to pour. Pouring, you are pouring as cloudy blue skies, amour, the reflection of the night will soon come, remembering crossing the Bridge of Sakura, as it blossomed, I saw you, an old dream falling between us as pink begins to pour.
Sakura is your name, blossoming within, you. Sakura is a cherry blossom. Sakura is a bridge that connects this life with the next. Sakura is the skies before it rains, and as it rains, pink covers us of dreams. As you fall, remember, you are Sakura. Sakura is meant to bloom and fall, as we fall, we become an old dream that will find its way back to the blue cloudy skies.