Your world is noiseless
the little white flower has been wilted already
the story ends in tragedy
the blood is specked by the petal
our world is not pure
the sun isn’t falling down, but you choose to fall down
Our talent is a cruse
we want to be beautiful
but living is difficult?
you said, you said we are different
and the cruse has been given
when we were borned in the world
and you choose to fall down
what you are thinking? when you were falling down
i know your world is noiseless
the little white flower has wilted already
the story ends in tragedy
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