Blooming under a cold moon, we are like fireworks... Rising, shining, and finally scattering and fading. So until that moment comes when we vanish like fireworks... Lets us sparkle brightly, Always...
Red like blood White like bone Red like solitude White like silence Red like the beastly instinct White like a god's heart Red like thawing hatred White like a frozen, pained cry Red like the night's hungry shadows Like a sigh piercing the moon it shines white and shatters red
we reach with our hands and brush away the clouds and pierce the sky to reach the moon and Mars but we still can't reach the truth
No, nothing can change my world --Ichigo Kurosaki, Black Moon Rising
The rain drags Black Sun down, but the rain dried by White Moon.
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