The heavy, dusty shackles were rusty, imprisoning the proud girl. Her long silver hair hangs down to her waist. No one can save her, and no one is willing to touch the thorns. She is a tender and charming flower that blooms silently at midnight. When the night fades and dawn breaks. She disappeared in the afterglow of twilight. "My dear, don't you think it's ridiculous that you spare no effort to touch me who is covered with thorns?" The glazed eyes echoed the gorgeous satin on the dress. You are finally indulged in the dense fragrance of roses.
Concept: Love is not just giving