Thousands of colorful fireworks cannot stir up the heart that has long been silent;
The mottled and rotten shadows cannot move those eyes that are always cold and heartless.
Memories slowly fall off under the peeling off of time, but time gradually fades under the erosion of the world of mortals.
We are powerless in the face of fate.
Destined, what an annoying term.
It seems that everything is out of control, but I am under the control of others.
Like a puppet, it follows the path planned by the master and leads to the end step by step.
We can't resist, but there are still people who want to break through the shackles.
Free?
Ridiculous.
Where in the world can there be true freedom?
We are all puppets and we are all equally miserable.
Fate is synonymous with sorrow.
We arrive at the same destination through different paths.