How the stars look like (the Sun and the moon)

The ritual singing from the Norupo,
The song you like that feels like the holy voice from the hell,
Making you perceive the rhyme and the sensation embedded in the resentment of the tone.
You were finally shown that what the Sun guides you may put you against the world,
The dark side of the moon may be where your cocoon is.

The world is still young to appreciate the roses that only absorb the light,
And nobody can see the light been shadowed by the roses lead to the frequent spasm within.
Yet that flower devil queen does not know submission is an option.
Nature did not give her the tenderness she can digest, so she has responded the same way she has been nourished.
The thorn has been triggered the first bud upon experiencing the first burn from the light,
It has accompanied her ever since.

People passing by,
The dark queen was cursed by the swift cut left on them.
The dress of grand night is not for the obvious eyes.
And eventually, the thorn has outgrown and traumatized the adjacent plants,
Thus she has nowhere to hide but to burn into ashes in a harsh summer.
And finally, she laughs in the sizzling reincarnation, along with the wind spreading her echoing pain.

The white roses, being the first ones to catch the sad news, with their smooth stem.
Being the ones spoiled by the Sun,
They have not idea how a life of being covering with the skin thickened by pain was able to get by.
She weeps and decided to tattoo the sacrifice and volunteered to mourn forever more.
Devoting her blessed life to comfort all the passing,
Sleeping on the cold tomb soundly, with all the loving memory she can contain,
With the thorns acquired from the dark queen.
The pain from the past life can ultimately rest in peace.
And all the roses have vowed to write the story into their new skin, the thorns.

Lies told by the Sun are exposed,
The passion jumping with the self-identified ideal pursue does not always come in hand with a feasible prospect.
We still don’t know how to adjust to the outside.
Yet we will no longer hesitate to visit the dark side of the moon, where nurtured us.

~Carol Shi