The cool summer, the rippling autumn, the cold winter with snowflakes, whose home is above the dust, the youth that has been wiped out in ashes, at the foot of Chile Mountain, the golden army and the iron horse, do not cherish the flowers after they are gone, the car dances on the sand, the time is wrong, pity the end of the world when the moon is missing, I shed tears at the edge of love, the lack that I cannot resist, the scars that have not yet healed, the loneliness that tastes the bitterness with all my heart. If I can arrive tomorrow, my heart will no longer struggle. I will fight with all my strength in the beacon fire. After the rain, there will be a colorful cloud.
Intention: