The world is muddy and broken, its shadowed corners coated in dust.
Flowers grow in the mire, singing with the deep pools; dust, carrying the smell of mud, mingles with the white snow.
Zou Da always remembers that summer, when even the wind was unusually hot.
She always thinks of that boy, whose very soul seemed laid bare beneath the sunlight.
Theme: Staying alive
Good looking! Come on!
I can't help but think about it hhh
Hurry up and write it down(><)