There was only one kind of plant growing on this black scorched soil. I observed them quietly, from near to far, first the snarling roots and the twisted and tangled dark green old stems. Then there are green new branches and translucent emerald leaves. Finally, the palm-like calyx is like holding a rare flower carefully cared for. The red color painted on the tender petals is more passionate than lava and thicker than thousands of years of dragon blood. The flowers are densely blooming all over the branches. If you look at it from above, it should be a suffocating sea of red flowers, right? Thinking like this, I finally realized that I was lying on the ground under the flowers... No, maybe it was a little further down, probably buried by the black soil.
The drizzle is still swaying, and the moon's figure is getting blurry. I don't remember where I am, and I don't know who that lonely figure is, but I can only remember the red flowers swaying gently in the rain, their stories and their names repeated over and over in my ears like whispers.
——The only plant growing on this charred land, the hell love flower.