Flowers bloom at the cemetery

The intrusion into the cemetery was completely unintentional.

I was heading for the blooming flowers.

The cold gravestones emit a harsh white light.

Telling a story of the past

Fame and fortune are carved nakedly on them.

The fragrance of the flowers can't suppress the sleeping

And let it reach out

To touch, beat, and pull me over and over again.

As I was leaving, one of the most colorful flowers

Whispered to me with its mouth covered, blooming unintentionally

"far more unintentional than intentional.

Forgive me if I tell you, forced or willing

Forced or voluntary, the secrets of the soul.