Everyone says the sun is warm, but I find it dazzling.
Whenever night comes, you can embrace the warmth that belongs to me. It's a pity that I can't learn from the fairy to fly to the moon, so I can only use the wind to send a dead leaf to express my condolences.
My white night light is bright but not dazzling, bright but not charming. There are times when it is cloudy and clear, and times when there is wax and wane. I look forward to them and think about them.
Concept: Fearless weeds grow from the soil of freedom