Dawn at Dunker

Who can know whether life is precious or humble? Time will always take away everything. No matter how deep the emotion is, it is just a dream, and no matter how despicable the heart is, there is still some sincerity. And what will be left at the end? Is the destiny destined to remain unchanged from the beginning? Will it go with the river and the wind, or will it struggle to the end and shed the last drop of tear? Drain the last drop of blood? Until the heart stops beating? Until the soul is broken and annihilated? The long night is long, lonely, sad, and cold. Dawn is approaching, and I don't care about myself.