Endless falling trees rustle.
Until I think the Milky Way has fallen from the ninth floor of heaven.
Her petals may be crushed.
Once gone, the flowers will wither again.
Idle flowers fall to the ground and listen to the silence.
Whose heart will the longing for autumn fall on?
Dancing before falling flowers has become a style.
A wild goose flies in the lonely galaxy.
I hope it helps you.