烬中歌

Some believe that growing up is to gradually break free from the shackles. Fate sets the most brutal rules for us, turning day into night, leaving the future dwelling in but the lingering warmth of dreams. Thus, our weapons clash, burying the remnants of another setting sun, and welcoming the next rising dawn. Then, when the cage shatters, once and for all— May gentle flames envelop the shriveled flowers, with their song echoing in the embers.