Across the border line of solitude,
Is the yearning of one soul’s cross.
Just like a sheep who lost her mob,
A woman’s heart without a love.
But the alteration is yet to come.
The coldness shall be filled with warm.
Ill-fated is now gone.
The sun is yet to shine.
Susurrus talisman come knocking to her door
Bringing her with enormous treasure
Her hopes comes in the highest soar
Serendipity you never expect for.