Me too, was an empty shell,
Drowning with this flow of nothingness.
Like this world, alone with her treasure, her precious one.
But it’s all meaningless.
All we do is find out the meaning of everything that essentially meaningless..
We call it a dream, we call it a life of passion, both of us, inside this boxed world..
But didn’t these all pursues return to burden, a painful one.. and then, it changed into sweet lovely and sinful memories,
What were we think back then?