The Empress Is Behind Me

This is a crazy and depressing era. Carnival and tragedy are staged together, like moths flying into the flame. They are crawling together on the road to eternal life to listen to the funeral songs of all the gods. The water of the rivers converges into the Milky Way. The ancient emperors sleep alone. The temples may only have glorious attics. Conquests and inextricable madness are also the unwillingness of various races to prove themselves to the gods. Perhaps the meaning of life is also such persistence that makes it so beautiful.