Temporal storm

I am the lonely king of the earth, living in the jungle of Armand. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

I have no elven magic, and I don't have a throne with jewels,

But I have created a kingdom of roses.

In the immovable space-time, in the whirlpool of space-time,

Because there is no living soul, the gods have lost faith,

They are separated by different religions and worlds,

Attacking each other, causing the entire space-time to stagnate......

The messenger of the earth cannot arrive on time,

An ancient letter from 100 million light years ago,

Beneath the imprisoned seal,

Make lost art difficult to grasp,

So, now people can only believe in ice and fire.

Silence or death,

The tyranny of men destroys the truth,

Causes dust and storms.

In order to save the fate of failure, nuclear explosion and destruction,

I command the winged angels, with the roses of the field,

Canonization of all the most talented poets.

For the honor of poetry, for the faith of the heart,

When the rain and dew drop down the sky in the early morning,

I rode on the rocky horse and raised the fire-breathing sword,

Make an alliance of vengeance with all the proud.

And I was reborn in the boundless red fire,

Surrounded by Baudelaire and all the holy poets,

Embark on an immortal journey again.

Let the cloudy sky be filled with flocks of birds,

Then let the light burst out of the endless darkness.

While despising money, to resist cruel exploitation,

Every ordinary person also began to pay attention to his own destiny.

On the halo around the moon,

Assemble a fleet of stars,

Like a silent rock, showing anger,

Gathered closely together with each other,

Faintly flashing with fantastical crystals.

The savage people in the violent shock,

In order to continue to expand and set off a realistic war,

And so, the dead bodies began to push together,

They were naked and stiff, and they were pushed into the crematorium,

Billowing black smoke rises,

At this time the hoarse earth,

Precious lives were lost.

Like the leaves of an oak tree, turned to ashes,

And people in merciless indifference,

But he couldn't heal the pain in his heart for a long time.

War and hunger are twin brothers,

Lying together on their backs in the Sahara Desert,

Covered in shades of green,

Look at the thin skeleton, the green tendons are exposed,

Stretch out your weak hand, the closer you get to death,

The more it evokes the desire to live.

If the world were real,

We should make everyone equal,

Don't spread false lies,

And let the tyrant who eats people ride on the head of the people.

And reality is a mirror of reality,

Showing a shattered light,

There is no sympathy, only the language of the strong,

It is recorded in history, and this history is written by lies.

So Homer died, and truth died,

All the tragic poets also died together.

Until a new storm is born again,

People swallow the fire of light,

Only then can the truth dance and fly high,

Away from decay and filth,

Achieve a state of tranquility and light.