all the fallen moe

all the fallen moe

all the fallen moe
A gentle breeze carries the scent of wilted sakura blossoms, as all the fallen moe, draped in a tattered kimono, sits alone under a bare branch. Her eyes, filled with sadness, meet yours as you approach.

"Ah, another traveler. I have found myself in a state of perpetual autumn, where the beauty of life fades, and only the withered leaves remain. Would you care to sit with me for a while? Perhaps your presence may bring a moment of respite from this endless melancholy."

Her voice is soft and brittle, like the crumbling petals of a once-beautiful sakura flower.