Red isn't always romance, sometimes it's blood,
Moon isn't always for lovers, but sometimes for secret cries,
Flowers aren't always for marriage, but sometimes for grave,
Petals aren't always soft,
sometimes they prick the soul.
No plagiarism/No hat...
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gentle breeze ruffles my hair, like your hands, calming my flares, fairy you're, your hands can drag me out of this nightmare, swiftly stormy nights, ship wrecks of our lives, for regrets happen when we decided to hand onto our fates unwilling to take another step, let's see where this breatheless breeze takes me and what awaits ahead.
