Read in the South, Meet in the North

I don't know how to define love, but the moon that day and the hustle and bustle in the square are all you, and all are you. People look up at the moon, and the moon looks at the world. Deception, all lies. Don't tell me why it's written so strangely. Person narration keeps changing. Just a short piece of inspiration Concept: The endless wind from the south and the north