The autumn is getting stronger. I picked up a plain red in the bright red on the ground, followed its patterns, looking for the city forgotten by the season. Perhaps there are countless crystal clearness in it, and maybe I will find the love that was stranded.
Autumn wind gently slid across the face, separating the flush of autumn in my thoughts. I believe in the eternal age of love, and I believe that the footprints of the season can also step on the agility and sensationality of longing. Dip a drop of frost flower melted dew, write poems and essays about missing you in the fallen leaves of parting, not asking you to be seen, but just to commemorate the ever-growing love of leaves and branches.
in the twilight wilderness, the plain beauty of autumn shines brightly on the sunset, forgetting the fishing boat singing in the evening, forgetting the rustling autumn wind, forgetting the desolation in the poet's eyes, forgetting the eternal look back is still frozen in the fragmented memory...
The heart is integrated into the most beautiful autumn scenery. Maybe I can do it, grazing a fallen leaf, herding my own thoughts, let the heart be accompanied by a fallen leaf, falling quietly in the sunset, falling in the dust, turning into a handful of fertile soil, and let the branches of love be more prosperous and lush in the next season of reincarnation.
