The end of Ling Dynasty, or in other words, the end of summer.
Sometimes I feel like you are like a thorn bird that strayed into the mortal world.
The thorn bird is so special.
Everyone in the world praises how loud your singing voice is on the stage, and praises your bright feathers.
But I know that they were all fooled by your harmless disguise. I can see what kind of heart is riddled with holes hidden in your thin body, and I can hear the crying song in your heart.
You are like the driven bird with thorns on its chest. It follows a law called fate. It is the past that you cannot escape, and it is the eyes that are staring at you in the dark.
You are forced to carry sins that do not belong to you, and are forced to use the coldest eyes to cover up your deepest fears in this world full of lies.
Late summer, I don't understand. Why do you choose this path even though you know it hurts and that it will break you to pieces? Is it to face fate? Or to fight against injustice?
No, none of them.
In fact, I understand that you are just hiding from this suffocating place to another suffocating place, but you think you can escape in this way.
Purpose: Give their youth an ending.
