Sad Love Makes a River of Tears

The taste of happiness is sometimes like the sweet stamen-like venom that has been brewing for a long time! And the poisonous juice that remains secreted is the trace of youth that has been forgotten, hurt, stayed, ruthlessly trampled by who? The geese passed by without stopping! Where? In that heart's love. And my sorrow, who is perfunctory about the three-leaf clover of the Three Holy Stones? It turns out that it is the wreckage of broken dreams, burying our lost years... Right? Everything disappeared in the rainy season of autumn nights. Right, obliterated in the Ice and Snow Season (Blood Sacrifice).