Spoiler! :
I possess my own hands during the bleak of November
witnessing the horizon when the sunrise draws near
however these fingertips embellish the white orchid
and it becomes an unbearable stain
drench in each petal down to the stem
as my henchmen packs up my stuffs
my lips begin to quiver as if it has a pulse
I want to grip off my pang in my chest to help myself
breath once again, but as soon as I open my mouth
they smile at me in the corner and turn me into a red rose
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