The color of the world is so dark that people cannot see the light of tomorrow. This is the gloom of hell. There are so many ghostly figures here, wandering in the swaying streets, and their phantoms are so swaggering. The world can only see the ethereal beauty, not the deep sadness, but there is no place like hell. No flowers of mercy can grow on the scorched earth, and bloodshed and war will never end. My appearance will eventually age like orange peel, and all I need is a soul as beautiful as a blooming flower.