Once an infant is born,

There is one more dust on earth

Two parallel eyes open at the same second.

Once step into a harbour

There is one more dust on earth

One crossroad, one carriage

One chemical liquid,

Soaked by a cotton bud.

Pixel points pile up one little hill, 

A half of rebirth，

One maze full of light of ghosts

The portrait of lord hangs in void,

The maze cannot talk, it means nothing now.

But at the place out of awareness，

Vulnerable fragments piece up countless patterns.

.

Through the boiling crucible， 

He can see where you came from,

The place you try to escape,

Your unsettled thoughts,

The crease in your diary,

Each metaphor in your mother's wrinkles,

And all the ages, the annual ring represents,

Under the window in your childhood.

Hundreds of mazes, dyeing his red,

Boundless garden.