It was the drizzle of the hundred years.
The sense of distances was lost.
Time felt like an hour without seasons.
The only sense that remained alive
Was the sense of unreality.
It felt almost like hope.
It was the drizzle of the hundred years.
The sense of distances was lost.
Time felt like an hour without seasons.
The only sense that remained alive
Was the sense of unreality.
It felt almost like hope.