The era when we grew up, the prosperous youth.
The gloomy reflection under the flashover is scattered in the dust.
The sadness magnified by exaggeration, the past destroyed by pity.
Here are the years spent freely in laughter and tears.
Desolation and confusion, helplessness and hesitation.
The world seems to have been wiped out of color and drained of sound.
Memories play a slow-motion black-and-white silent movie.
Old photos pressed under glass.
We are sinking in the past, and we are tossed under the cruel reality.
The prosperity in the steel forest, the reflection of tiny youth swaying.