How many years have passed,

The warm voice always seemed to echo in my ears.

Child!

Hurry up and fight.

Looking through the window,

It turned out to be the sun.

It gives me warmth,

It also gave me a beam of light.

Is it so hard that you want me to be a warm person?

To have the power of good?

Is it?

My dearest sun.

"Poetry, on the Island of the Heart" Chapter 38 The dearest sun is in the middle of the hand, please wait a moment,

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