Thrown from the river of melancholy, is a small seed buried in graceful lands, it has the scent of past memories and plums. How could we be so cruel? We talk about justice when it is injustice the one given, we are as ignorant as free, it is a biased belief that freedom is pursued and justice is blind. Why can't we face blindness with clarity of heart? Sometimes, you don't need eyes to see the truth. Why do we hurt others in name of freedom and justice? Who are we to judge those who are painted with eccentric colors? The seed has been growing, its branches are singing a melody of hope, until a new plum is born, brightness is fulfilling their dreams, the caregiver of a new generation is now in the ground covered with flowers, so much whiteness, with seeds, so much greenness, heaven in muddy memories, dead and soaking with the waterfalls of love. There is no greater justice than love. There is no greater freedom than love. In such bliss, a new river of endless tears is born, so much happiness cannot be contained in a single tree. So many seeds are nourished, and we become alive. It is the first experience of true living, we become the truth, we are the product of a single seed whose fertile grounds gave us one more chance to make it right.