Villainess's Sweet Everyday

Oh, say, look at the sky, the gaze that hits the tunnel ceiling. The warmth of the illuminating lights flutters without blurring. The lights hanging like bats have an uncertain sense of pity that even the pirates are alert to.

Nature collapsed by the intervention of remarkable codes. Flight distance coming from an irresistible sense of gliding. It is taken into a vague, vague, distorted spiral of pearls and struck down by suspicion that it will not be kidnapped.

I think getting out of this tunnel may also be an excessive problem. My leg is already a stick. We should take another break. I wander beneath the lights that repeat the brightness, neglecting the sense of distance between the two people in front of me heading ahead.