Kling 2.5 Turbo (pro)
Nerves, crumbling to ashes, lie Like gray coal on the cinder of the soul, Hot without air, hot with air, Kalashnikovs fire loudly in my temples! The stars sway like river ripples, The moon caresses the haystack with its rays. Suddenly, maddened, it plunders the silence, The roar of an airplane, painfully alien!