Facing the boiling loneliness, my eyes were covered with a layer of mist, and even such a small temperature could not belong to me. . . Be lonely with me~~
. . . . .
Shabby puppets are manipulated by strings
Glass eyeballs with empty expressions
gloomy castle
spider web red carriage
Ancient iron box puppet dancing
Who will control my mouth
How many years have I slept
The mottled fortress is incomplete
Who holds my hand and bids farewell to whom
He controls my soul and my smile
Locked in the dim time
No love or hate
. . . . . . "Puppets"
Intention: