The roc flies, fluttering its red feathers.
The sun breaks through the horizon like grass sprouts, and the sun's shell is so light,
With the initial temperature, it flew higher and higher.
With wings, the sky can fly.
Even if it is dusk, the sunset tightens the distance,
Revealing the darkness of the sky, the wings of the bird perch
Still forming a quarrel——
The first egg is called the moon.
Even though I want to spread my wings in that sky
but still lacking
That pair of wings with fluffy feathers
Intention: