Heart is like being trapped, thinking can not escape the binding of memory, many times can not help but want to snoop in the distance, but can not put down the lonely longing of that place behind.
Those who once had colorful wings. With the passage of time, the heart is gradually unable to bear, and the wings are slowly peeled off, so they can only fall helplessly and fall to the ground, like a lonely song, each note can only whisper bleak expectations day by day, helplessly waiting for an echoing voice, dragging the pulse of the heart, wandering on the border of hope and despair.
Sometimes I think, without those loads, the heart should become lighter.
No worry, no loneliness, no despair, no gloom.
You can expect boldly, you can pursue it crazily.
So, want to light a star under the bright starry sky, burn out the broken hopes of that season
Author: plain dye, winter color
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