“ Many, many years ago,
in a sad, faraway land,
there is an enormous mountain made of rough, black stones.
At sunset, on the top of that maintain,
a magic rose blossomed that would make whoever plucked it immoral.
But no one dared go near it
because its thorns were full of poison.
Men talked amongst themselves about their fear of death and pain
but never about the promise of eternal life.
And everyday, the rose wilted,
unable to bequeath its gift to anyone,
forgotten and lost at the top of that cold, dark mountain,
forever alone, until the end of time.”作者: 66糖果行空 时间: 24-9-2009 00:47
恩。