Some people say that time is the mark of our encounter. The Sanskrit words above record our tightly interlocked hands yet separated from each other. The heartbreaking sound played is the obsession that cannot be heard outside the palace walls. Is it the cage created by time, or you put on the makeup of disillusionment, which makes me repeat the poignant despair. You will never feel the coldness of my tears in the lies you weave. Tonight or later, I have been waiting for your answer. . .
Conception: