@quynhchi
Even in darkness, some choose to bloom.
From the moss-covered roof, in silent night, a small flower rises toward a trace of light—not to be seen or praised, but simply to live, to bloom once, for itself.
So do we: only after long dark days do we learn the worth of a single ray of sun.
Some wounds never fully heal, yet we learn to smile with them and quietly go on, as if no storm had ever passed.
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