This is our Yasuni, his body red, about to drown in the sea water, which is like our society and reality, but he is about to die with his last strength to hold up the flowers, firm and righteous. The crimson color of the flowers mirrors his body, the white paper of the flowers is the purity of our soul, while the blood-red flowers are like the heat of his soul that he cannot bear to part with his life and life. Dreams don't come true, but dreams are always worth the tears.