The intersection of black and white, the blending of reality and illusion, the world of destruction and hope, dream, that is.
The ancient city walls became fragments of light, flying so far away that they could never come back. She returned to the dream she recalled, pursuing hope and despair. The black butterfly sings in the sky, right in the eagle's mouth, following the sound of the wind, singing the end of life. That is her pursuit, she likes to sing, and that is also her sorrow. She is destined to die in singing, just like a moth, pursuing the light of destruction without end. How much evil is hidden in the endless night? How should we eliminate them to restore the purity of the night? We cannot eliminate it because we are evil. We can only maintain evil and defend ourselves. We have no choice. Dreams, like the god of death, face the foam on the black sea and smash it. The prosperous world has turned into nothingness, and we will carry the boat through the endless sea of darkness. The world of dreams is at the other end. That is the world of Death, and we are Death.
Thousands of dream worlds merge into an infinite universe. In the middle of the night, we took a deep boat and came to the continent of dreams. We looked like the roots under the stems of roses, tangled and tangled. She is the pale and wounded eyes of the dark angel, filled with illusory reality and full of real illusion. The world of dreams, just like that. We cannot fathom it. We run after her shadow, we are dreamers, we do not belong to the reality here, we are just another dreamer. We don't belong here. We are another dreamer. We are living in another dream.