If a flower leaves the branch, it will not be the same flower again next year. Watching the people you love pass by hand in hand, is it a blessing or a dilemma.
The leaves have fallen in the cold autumn, and the trees have withered. When I look for butterflies, they are nowhere to be found. Love has become dispensable to me. Coming to a strange ancient time and starting over, I will not give up in this life, I will seize everything, even if it is doomed.