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A butterfly kissed the summer and died in the winter because it could not escape the biting cold.
In the world I live in, I have seen that butterfly. It awakened my pain and also brought me a warm flower.
I am a poisonous butterfly, with a beautiful coat for camouflage and a deadly weapon to resist external enemies. I don't allow others to see my weakness, so I can only cry at night.
I am gentle, strong, and indifferent under the mask, hiding countless lovely secrets.
I am trapped in a circle, fragile, helpless and pitiful, always acting out a lonely drama by myself.
That summer we met, entangled, and separated. That winter we met again, struggled, and tore each other apart. The bloody vines entangled the tail of memory. The game without an ending continued...
Likes and dislikes are all buried in the grave of youth. The game between us ended with a complete loss when I pulled out the thorns.
Do you know? You made me a butterfly with nowhere to go. I couldn't fly across the ocean, couldn't escape the dusk snow, and could only stay in the endless night, without light, love, or anything.
