When I open my eyes and see you, it feels like a world away.
Here,
The sorrow that has lingered for thousands of years is like the ripples of sadness, spreading layer by layer and unable to be silent for a long time.
Seeing the bloodstains of the past, we forget where we came from and where we will return.
Wipe the wound bit by bit, imagining that the sun can heal the wound.
It turns out,
Only by learning to give up can everything remain the same.
Maybe,
In the distant future, desolation and silence still linger.
Maybe,
We no longer need to remember the past, because everything has become a trace.
Maybe,
The healed wound is bound to shed tears one day.
However,
Those prayers are gone. Tell me, what can I use to last forever?
I cannot recall the sharp blade dripping blood, which once expressed the cruelty of life.
The cherry blossoms all over the sky are falling rapidly, which are the blood drops of desolate fate.
No one can tell how far we are from the horizon ahead.