I am here, and stay in a story. All of them feel something rusty in the history.
The hill I stand has a sweet scenery as if firefly dancing in a waterside. Then she fades away into darkness, silent light, silent night.
In the calm, Nemophila blooms sorrowfully. There're no signs of the life all around. Then she finds a line in cloudy sight, thirsty wind, rusty mind.
They fade away into darkness in turn. I said. \"what is there over the sky ?\" And she said. \"I have no idea, but I have to go. We can't stay here any more.\"
We're longing for a paradise, yet have lost a way to find it. Not alone in believing, we are. Now I can see, I can feel her light. It just draws a bright orbit on our cloudy sky.
I am here, and stay in a story. All of them feel something rusty in the history.
We're longing for a paradise, yet have lost a way to find it. Not alone in believing, we are. Now I can see, I can feel her light. It just draws a bright orbit on our cloudy sky.