Fireworks are always dazzling and magnificent, yet sorrowful.
They are born, bloom, and vanish beneath everyone's gaze.
Such beauty, yet how many people will remember it forever?
That lonely life in the sky must be breathtakingly beautiful, if only once.
When the fireworks are spent, they fall from the sky trailing faint sparks.
Then the wind scatters them. Nothing remains to prove they ever existed or were beautiful.
Every trace is wiped away.
What a tragic ending.
Premise:
The fireworks are gone, But tourists have witnessed its beauty