Red pomegranate, flowing with sweet juice,
He outlines the lines of lips that lead to death.
The heavy fetus remains silent in the crowd,
Sharp threads stretch out from the spine,
Standing on the shore of time,
He was angry, His face was ferocious, but He didn't make a sound.
As if angry at being unintentionally trapped in a cocoon,
Want, break out of the shell.
Intention: Mutual redemption among similar people.