Sarah Bond

Time has been traveling on its own axis for too long. In the long and almost eternity of time, there are always people, and there will always be people who leave footprints of varying depths. Some of them have not yet been born, some are crying for food, and some have already perished. The slow and solemn Sarabande sounded in the bloody sunset after the war, and gradually resounded through the eternal sky. In fact, the sunset and the rising sun are essentially the same. They both have a bright red pulse and a deep aftertaste. No matter how magnificent the feat is, it is just a flash in the pan in front of this light. "Damn... You really deserve to go to hell!" "I'll meet you there eventually, sir." "Oh! Go to hell!" "I can, but you can't run away either." "... I'm going to hell." "I'll go with you." I particularly hate the rich and prosperous times and palace love and hatred that are piled up with gorgeous words and have no connotation. If I want to sum up the core of this article in one sentence, I think it is: Good people are rewarded. Thank you for the cover >