I burned the rose to death, and the flames burning in front of me swallowed the rose bit by bit.
My rose is afraid of rainy days, doesn't like thunder, and doesn't like being alone. My rose likes to think wildly, so you cannot ignore my rose.
Roses are becoming more and more beautiful and delicate. What is increasingly visible is increasing sensitivity.
In this era of overflowing emotions, my rose is sincere and fiery.
She is something I will never let go of in my life. She is aloof and arrogant but makes people sink.
I love my rose till death.
My rose cannot live without me.
The breeze moaned, and I took this bouquet of red roses and put it into the fire. The roses turned into ashes little by little, the sparks became smaller and smaller, the roar of the fire became smaller and smaller, the wind gradually weakened, I closed my eyes and enjoyed the last time.
Ashes to dust, dust to dust, from now on her romance no longer belongs to me.
I burn the rose, light and love share the same sin.
I burned the rose to death, and from then on my world had no home, only the sunset.
Intention: None yet