Father, Your Rose Fell Off

He picked him up from the bridge hole and raised him for ten years. He called him "brother" but never dared to call him by his name. Ten years later, he became the youngest monk of the Sacred Heart Church. He was holy, ascetic, and the perfect "holy son" in the eyes of everyone. And he crawled back from hell with thorns all over his body and became the lead singer of an underground rock band. He was covered in tattoos and was full of swear words. Everyone said he was crazy. He blocked him in the confessional, grabbed him by the collar and said: "I'm back to take your life - or your people." Everyone thought it was revenge. Only he himself knew that he was here to offer sacrifice. He would tear the holy robe to pieces with his own hands, pull him off the cross, and plunge him into the rose garden watered by his own flesh and blood. "They say you are a saint and will not be contaminated by the dust of the world. But I have seen your cracks - there are stars hidden in them." A madman crawling out of the bridge hole, a saint trapped by his faith. He used the sharpest method to force him to take off his disguise, and he used the most silent persistence to wait for him to look back. They are each other's abyss and salvation. When forbidden love hits the shackles of the world, when the holy robe and the rose are entangled with each other - is it falling or rising? "You are no saint. You are my rose. With its thorns and with its dew."