It's just because of my special bloodline.
So we are always being exploited,
When the use is completed,
The story should be over, right?
Well, that's right, ordinary life begins...
A poem composed of changing love,
Reciting countless sighs of pain,
Reject people from the threshold,
It seems to reveal infinite sadness.
Is it you or the shadow of that boy?
Smiling but replicating tragedy,
Falling flowers are intentional,
Running water is ruthless...
Rejection is an action.
Absolutely, is it the ending?