Warm wind, still in the soft and greasy mirror-like lake wash.
Lingering rain, still in fate smoke in the world of cool home.
Paranoia of me, still in the night such as hook willow shore wandering.
I stand in that had promised willow shore, no willow yiyi, only soul around.
--Inscription
Rain cold smoke, lonely north, across the shore dim lights, spring, want to write light painting, but the rain wet face. "The wind sneaks into the night, moistens things silently", has also become the old misty rain, lonely shadow, and gently swaying branches shadow hidden into injury, lonely boat upstream, can reach the fate of the other shore?
The night moon is desolate, delicate and delicate, swallowed by the merciless lonely lake, reflecting the pale glory. I vaguely entered the dream woven by memory, and the misty Penglai wanted to block you and me. In the confusion of thoughts, I have tears hazy. I tried to hold those slender hands, but was awakened by a late cold rain. Fate of smoke scattered, in that no intersection of the sky. I looked up, the only thing left, only a fleeting rainbow, a rainbow rain, a farewell thousand years of tears.
There are always too many hurries that we cannot follow, there are always too many whispers that we are unprepared for. In this strange city, walking in every street, neon lights, and how many people are wandering alone? Under the resplendent starry sky, there would also be mottled figures. Crying heart, in front of the empty window, talk about the years of ruthless, fabricated with the promise of oil lamp dry.
In willow shore, quietly walking, carrying an eternal oath, back and forth, pacing in the light of the clouds, only to find the traces of familiar drunk shadow, memories of Wenwen smile Su language only pieces. Suddenly look back at the bleak place, also no rain also no sunny, dream that become strange figure, has fallen in the memory of the bitter sea.
I promise you a lifetime of debauchery, allow you to keep white-headed. The pursuit of a storm outside the flat, strong for too long, but also to the depths of the tears free, let it go with the wind, drift to the distance, I do not know where the soul. Light flow of the fleeting, only as always willow, weak standing in place, but has no initial appearance. After many vicissitudes, why force those who have smiling faces still hang on your face.
Sad words, ferry time old, overlapping memory scars. In this world, how many chapters of reincarnation can be repeated? We in time under the guidance of different directions, leaving behind only memory footprints, and these marks, will eventually be buried by the years of sand, only the familiar willow shore, waiting for the promise called once.
Author Wen Xu
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