In troubled times, a few people worship the sky on a high platform
Roses bloom like blood, burning before the last war
The iron armor is still there, who can hold back the romance in the past?
The bones are gone, the dusk hides them, leaving nothing in the annals of history for years to come
…
Thousand-mile red flowers are as pure as the frost and as bright as the snow
Looking back at the smoke, who is holding a fan to hide his smile?
…
It's been a long journey, the past has been forgotten, the wind and clouds have dispersed and no one can see it
Intention: