The lights in the window under the night sky are so quiet, peaceful, warm and thought-provoking. I am very afraid of the dark night, and even more afraid of walking alone at night. I am not afraid of the demonic shadows of ghosts and monsters in the night, but I am just afraid that the black night sky will invade the heart and inflate the unlocked heart door, making my mood unable to let go.
Every time I look at the night, I can't help but think of Gu Cheng 's unfathomable and vague eyes, and think of that poem; the night has made me have black eyes, and I often wonder if this poem has caused him to fall into his black eyes, and in that mysterious deep pool, I can no longer struggle to climb the ashore.
Like to stare alone in the endless night sky, not daring to walk alone, you can sit alone in a corner and enjoy the comfort of the wind, the charming shadow of the moon and the drift of the clouds, there are too many things to say, only the low eyebrows coefficient folding memory write them on paper and bind them in envelopes, stick them on the envelope, walk on the road, rise against the wind and let the Xuyu float with the wind, and keep silent in the dust in the passing years, wave your hand and whisper in the heart, and look out for the world.
My mood is twisting and turning in the rings of the year, and is blocked in eternity. When it is tied to the silent, it quietly grows in my life and splashes ink and scatters. The words are like rain. The misty rain is misty. The raindrops moisten my thoughts. I pour a cup of wine and drink it drunk. The long night is long, and the faint lovesickness is hard to relieve my silent melancholy. Who is who is waiting for this life? Who is whose life station? Who is whose previous life reincarnation? Don’t be tied; you will always miss you, don’t be in love; you will always miss you, don’t be in love; you will always miss you, don’t be in love; you will always miss you.
Flying catkins flashed in a blink of an eye but the traces of catkins slid across the heart. Although they were light and soft, they still softened their dreams and murmurs. A curtain of dreams is attached to the entire prosperous world. What cannot be connected are the bursting notes. The music suddenly stopped in the moment when it was ashes, pausing the entire world, leaving the world speechless. The soul is lingering, the night is sad, loneliness likes to follow like a shadow, loneliness is willing to invade the soul, it cannot be said that it is unbearable to be lonely or lonely.
Flowers bloom and fade away for several lifetimes. The snow in the evening of the mountains, and the heart is about to make a promise. Habit has become a habit. Everything is completely different. The whispers of autumn turn into a commemoration of love. The floating letters are flying in the mist, looking for the end of love, the post office of love. When the night comes again, I will not be afraid of the entanglement of the night. I believe that the words on my fingertips will lead me out of the swamp, towards the ultimate, and to the place where the dream begins...
