War is bloody politics; politics is bloodless war. . .
It is said that this is how it started. . .
When the country wakes up, it turns into a battle map,
In troubled times, when people leave, their souls turn into beacon smoke;
The stars are sparse and the moon is cold, and the road back is covered with frost,
Withered bones and ruined trees, barren graves and lonely city;
Forget the river singing, dancing far away on the other shore,
The sound is faint and shadowy, unable to distinguish the human world.
Emperors, generals and prime ministers have made great achievements and failed in the past thousands of years.
Longing suddenly arises, life and death fly away.
The sword dances in the sky, the new wind cuts through the night,
The blood curse of the vertebrae soul destroys the fate of the world.
The long river has exhausted all the books, and the remaining scrolls of the mountains and rivers,
Suddenly looking back, history has turned another page.
"One Thought, Two Looks". . . Poke the first one. . .
Conception: