It wasn't like they never bloomed
but they had to walk on stairs of thorns
life was like thunderstorm for them
beautiful, shining but scary at same time

Everyone out their makes them feel burden like old books
even old, dusty books have orphic story
they were a diamond in hand of mud

Death wasn't something they wanted
horrible world make them melancholic
like a fallen leaf in autumn
their door of hope was closed

In a world...