Light a candle, to hold what night at its edge. Spark, flame, one lit wick to go through the hours. Be it then a lantern, and its glare to hold what inky shadows to their corners. Let them be nightmares, however in sleep only do they breathe. Be these the moments that I have before every dawn without her. Be it she is every morrow I have yet to waken to.
– Mitsuo Tanaka