In that year, everyone was destined to live in the world of mortals.
You signed a rhyme, making a storm
Travelling to the end of the world, and setting off an dark surge.
You asserted that the poet's love should have ended in vain.
At the beginning, you could reach for the stars. Could it be that the sword of happiness went sideways?
If you saw blood, you could seal your throat. Put on an impulse to kill love
to pay homage to love, and do it by yourself
The poems are red, and the windows are arranged to wait for the dry wind
The red eyes roll, and you can laugh at the sobbing man as a hero
The Jianghu junior, who is used to chasing the vicissitudes of life
You are also good at playing the piano, and you are busy in the palm of your hand
The lightness of life makes you meet.