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The flower of dawn crawls out of the blood in my mourning, which is the beginning of my childhood. You are the noble and pure white lotus, and I am the crow looking for filthy carrion, lost in the horizon that has long lost its color. I hear your voice, it's the call from the church, please don't leave...please don't leave...please don't leave... Oh, I'm sorry, my Isabella, I'm just a crow looking for filthy carrion, lost in the horizon that has long since faded. I suddenly heard a whisper in my ear, come to me... Come to me... Come to me... Is it you, the end of all this, the mysterious master, the end of the bloodline, the ancient god, you made the sky lose its color, made the earth dry and cracked, leaving only corpses scattered in the fields, it was you who made the magnificent palace collapse, and made the devil hidden deep in the sea return to the world, is it you? The end of it all. But I am just a crow looking for filthy carrion, lost in the horizon that has long since faded. At this point, it will never happen again... It will never happen again... It will never happen again...

Tired of seeing blood and death, in the sky where bones are stacked, the dim ancient gods whisper to me. I can feel their deep loneliness and confusion. This seems to be an eternal tragic song. I often think that maybe I am just the dusk crow standing on the top of the ancient pavilion, so depraved and insignificant. Ah, endless curse, when will all this end!