Star Calamity

Ink falls, ink drops fall on the heart, and the heart is like paper. As the ink spreads, it seems that a few strokes have painted the sadness in my heart. The phantom is like a hook. Time flies by for a few inches, changing its appearance with the wind. A ray of setting sun, half an inch of time, and a drop of light ink are enough to dissolve all the sadness in my heart.