Salvation equals death

The clock is ticking, the water drops are falling, and the dolls made of cotton cloth are blinking.

The little child hugged the doll and asked innocent words again and again.

——What on earth am I?

The doll grinned and answered with a smile.

You are a moth chasing a flame in the night, the moment the flame ignites, you disappear.

The little mouse hiding in the corner rushed to answer, chirping.

No, no, she is the bridge of lament on the Naraku River. Once tears fall from the corners of the eyes, they will fall into the abyss.

Deceptive, deceptive, she is obviously a cherry blossom that blooms in early spring and March.

The nightingales on the beams were singing softly.

So tall, so tall, taller than the sky.

It's a handful of soil in the forest.

Night stroked her hair.

Someone will touch your cheek and accompany you to grow old slowly.

The rain fell pattering down, wet the skirt and dirty the doll in her arms.

The cold wind brushed her cheeks lovingly.

Looking back, it may be the way home.