在\"被遗忘之翼\"的阴影中，In the shadow of forgotten wings,

时间在梦的肌肤上刻下名字。Time carves its name in the skin of dreams.

一条河流逆向而行，通向虚无，A river flows backward, into the void,

欢笑的回声成了虚无的游戏。Where echoes of laughter become the void's ploy.

一条金鱼溺于未诉的故事中，A golden fish drowns in stories untold,

记忆的螺旋，无情而冰冷。The spiral of memory, relentless, cold.

我们与幽灵共舞，在狂热的梦幻中，We dance with ghosts in a fevered trance,

沉默如脆弱的矛，被我们挥舞。Wielding silence like a fragile lance.

啊，灰烬的摇篮，光芒的摇篮，Oh, cradle of ash, cradle of light,

握住那坏掉的时钟，在无尽的夜晚。Hold the broken clock in endless night.

星辰在哭泣，大地充耳不闻，The stars are weeping, the ground won't hear,

但我们眼中的火焰灼灼燃烧。But the fire in our eyes burns clear.

月亮低语谜语，如诗人哀叹，The moon whispers riddles, a poet's lament,

人生如破碎的事件展开。Life unfolds like a fractured event.

每一次心跳都是悖论，脆弱而荒谬，Each heartbeat a paradox, fragile, absurd,

每一步都是反抗，对抗未被听见的声音。Each step a rebellion, against the unheard.

我们摘下宇宙织机的线，We pluck the threads of the cosmic loom,

织成属于我们的厄运之锦。Weave a tapestry of our own doom.

然而混沌中开出宁静的圣歌，Yet in chaos blooms the quiet hymn,

凤凰重生，颜色黯淡。Of phoenixes rising, their colors dimmed.

于是，这本编年史化作尘埃，And so, the chronicle fades to dust,

向虚无低语，一份脆弱的信任。A whisper to the void, a fragile trust.

在那从未存在的迷宫中，In the labyrinth of what never was,

我们留下的不是回声，而是因果。We leave behind not echoes, but cause.