In the darkness, an edge came out, a broken heart plagued by warmth. Sweating all over the body, tears soaking the paper, dissatisfaction, rib fractures are involved.
Simple is never colorful. The scars of stigma are deep and shallow in the fire of pain, the light dances in the darkness.
In the flickering light of laughter, in the dim night with vague happiness, he becomes a companion, with some familiar faces.
Yet the heart is burning, the fire of the heart is the cause of your laughter, the wax of the dark room is still burning.
