My Fate is Determined by Demons, Not Gods

A crimson moon, a tragic song on the path of life and death. The past, like dust, drifting away. This life, as filthy as the earth, cries out in the bloody night. At the end of the road, a single golden scale dances. A flawed breath, the Great Evolution like twilight. Gods and Buddhas fill the sky, suppressing the mortals. Striving to survive, even heaven denies it. Before the Bodhi seat, a three-foot demon, brandishes his staff in fury.