You followed the shine
You followed the echo
You followed the hush and the noise
Now look at me

Moria… Moria…
Crooked smile, steady hand
Moria… Moria…
Make a home of what you cannot understand

I saw you bargain with light at the mirror’s edge,
Call hunger "destiny" to soften every pledge
I saw the perfect "yes" learn how to swallow its own voice,
I saw night rinse the ink away and call it "a choice"
I saw the blanket turn to law, the bite turn warm and bright,
I saw your thoughts go weightless in a neon-colored night
I saw the street become a stage, the crowd become a cure,
And drums do what they always do: make nothing feel secure

So tell me, pilgrim, tell me true,
What did you come here to prove?
To be forgiven? To be clean?
Or just to stop being seen?

I am Moria, I am Moria, lift your cup to the bruise,
To the beautiful, stupid miracles you make when you refuse
To let the serious own your breath, to let the wise decide
I don’t wipe you spotless—
I invite the human inside
If life is just a courtroom, then hear my last decree:
Laugh at the judge, kiss the wound, and come home to me

Come home…
帰っておいで……
Come home…
帰っておいで……

They call it weakness when you rest, they call it vice to want,
They sell you guilt in tidy jars and dress your fear in font
They teach you how to wear a face that never breaks the spell—
But I am the cracked, honest laughter that survives it well
I’m the art of staying soft in a world that worships hard,
A stubborn little candle in a bureaucratic yard
I promise no innocence. I promise no ease
I promise you a choice that tastes like "no" and "yes" and "please"

Keep your mirror loose in hand,
Keep your crown like grains of sand
Hold your heat, but don’t let it own you,
Hold your hush, but don’t let it stone you

I am Moria, I am Moria, lift your cup to the bruise,
To the beautiful, stupid miracles you make when you refuse
To let the serious own your breath, to let the wise decide
I don’t wipe you spotless—
I invite the human inside
If life is just a courtroom, then hear my last decree:
Laugh at the judge, kiss the wound, and come home to me

Folly is not ignorance
It’s seeing the absurd machine and refusing to become its cog

Folly is a shield made of laughter,
a lantern for unbearable nights
But it casts a shadow too: a sweet way to disappear
So choose carefully—
living in the open, or hiding where you can’t be found

Here is my final cup
Not to erase you
Not to make you pure

A single drop of Nepenthes, only to loosen your jaw,
Only to let you breathe without worshiping law

Remember just enough to love what you are
Forget just enough to stop licking your scars
Far behind the tide, nymphs keep singing low—
Not to pull you back, only to teach you: let go

The mirror dims, the echo thins
The blanket slips, the noise steps back
The neon fades to ember tracks
And in the hush you feel the air—
Not judgment. Not salvation
Only breath. Only choice. Only you

I am Moria, I am Moria, final laughter, final light,
Not an ending, but a lantern for the long, mechanical night
Take your shine, take your "yes" take your hush, take your heat,
Know which ones are doors to walk through, which ones drop beneath your feet
You will stumble. You will crack. You will beg the dark to stay
So take this blessing into day:

Be foolish in a way that keeps you living
Be gentle in a way that doesn’t die
Be loud when silence is a prison
Be still when noise is just a lie
And when they ask for your straight face,
give them something truer:
a crooked grin with teeth

The cup is empty
The ceremony is done
Go on
Laugh like you mean it
Live like you can

Moria…
Moria…