At the end of the world's transition, I was left alone, facing the colorful world, and then died.
A moth flies into the flame and burns out its enthusiasm, but in the end it is nothing more than that.
What I have is far more than what I have lost, I never thought about it.
I am not Cinderella, dancing on the ice with bare feet. Forgive me, I don't understand the music. .
Conception: