C234

"Where does my sword go?" Love and hate are hard to bear.

My knife cuts through the air, whether right or wrong, understand or not.

I was drunk and misty, with grudges and grudges, illusory or empty.

I wake up from a dream, life and death, all in vain.

He also came in a hurry to hate, and everything went according to the wind.

With a wild laugh and a long sigh, a happy life, a sad life