There's ne'er one who's willing to let thee speak veracity,
What truly merits lamentation,
Is nay the deceased departing this realm,
It's arduous to aver there's no felicity,
ever someone who knows The regulations of survival in the celestial sphere,
Nay more stringent than mortal life,
And the inferno's flames, oh,
Also arduous to state,
We lament the deceased,
The deceased lament our every existence,
We shall all possess our own domain,
In paradise, 'tis boundless, Whilst in mortal life,
'tis merely square meters,
Transcend the snare of the standard's transfiguration,
People's stare of disdain,
As if condemning and endorsing sin,
Then wherefore not anticipate -
What manner of anticipation?
Desire and Rebel
Under the meaningless sermons of his master,
His stubborn perseverance began to fade away.
Scenes from beneath the Mountain flashed before his eyes,
Overwhelming him with a dizziness and nausea.
Something compelled him to relive his past,
Forgetting the need for any explanations.
Slowly, he walked towards his master,
Carrying the burden that belonged to him yet didn't belong to him.
With a slight sneer, a dreamy voice floated beside him,
As he slowly rose to his feet.
"Tell me, did you pay for this foolishness to atone for your past,
Or as part of some illusory cultivation mechanism for the observer?"
The scorching shell of the setting sun roasted the bodies of others,
But his heart was filled with a chilling heaviness.
The arms rested on his shoulders,
The burden quietly increasing, accompanied by an uncontrollable suffocation.
It felt like falling into hell.
"Like the Mountain, perhaps you are only one of many trials of my life.
Though insignificant, your actions may influence your existence and significance to me."
He could tell that his existence was only to help him transcend the limits of mortals and achieve enlightenment,
Eventually, he would become...
Of course, it had nothing to do with causality or redemption,
Because to him, he was nothing more than...
"Your own will, desire, moans, cheers..."
The Maple Tree
Frost came, staining the mountain red,
A sea of red, a fiery haze.
He missed the slope on Flower Fruit Mountain,
The frost falling in a long moment,
Flames ablaze, a sea of red,
A fiery haze.