The Rain Has Passed and the Dust Has Passed: the Wind Has Not Stopped Yet

The rain falls on the bloody mud, and the wind rolls over the broken flags. The young man escaped on a night when the city was broken. Years later, he becomes the sharpest knife in the hands of others. He once believed that reunification could stop the war, but he also personally created new scars. When the wind died down, he chose to leave. No goodbyes, no excuses. The wooden doors in the mountains are low and the blades are rusty. The wind has not stopped. People have become quiet.