Rage, rage against the dying of light.
She was brought by Prometheus in the cold winter, leaving the world pale.
She makes the only ink color in this mediocre desert, igniting the sea of disorder.
Will crush all things and destroy them, burn the shackles or strangle the pine trees,
No distinction between good and evil and no regard for harm.
Only the burning flame never ceases,
All things are evergreen.
｜A long song that uses blood as ink and fire as strings, engraved with memory and freedom. Born in the shackles of blood, reshaped in the judgment of fire. The exiled successor is the omitted variable of fate, the soul that opens its eyes in the silence and stands up in the ruins. Please cut off the chains of fate, the old order will collapse, the soul will burn to write a new chapter, cover the shadow sequence of the crown, and finally reshape the world in the name of freedom.
Perhaps hundreds of billions of years later, everything will return to its starting point.
There is no need to be afraid, because we will embrace the universe again, and the courage and belief we possess will make us stand on top of the world.
Intention: For the greater good