Crow Never Rises Again
About This Novel
Crows danced under the moonlight in the northern cemetery, and the words of madmen filled my ears. Then the god of death will pay attention to me, put on me the wilted pale wreath and bow down to me. So the ashes of last night also bloomed into pure white lilacs, lingering around the abyss. Are you going to embark on this road of no return? People with amnesia.
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