Hold on to those who are moved.

Accustomed to a way, a way to express feelings in words, a musical charm struck with fingertips, a mood piled up with a touch of sadness. Dancing thoughts soften into the misty rain in the south of the Yangtze River, fluttering and sprinkling, the delicate fragrance of spring. Standing in the earthly wall, looking up at the free horizon, I thought I could run like a runaway horse, unruly running away from home, but things are difficult to control, round and round the dream, I returned to the end.

Buildings wind and clouds, the world, how many things surging, my heart was hollowed out again and again, again and again buried, occasionally heartache, occasionally tears, occasionally even curled up in the corner of the turtle want to abandon the reality, occasionally also want to work hard to light life, hurried footprints, but forget to appreciate the world of truth, goodness and beauty There is a beauty that makes people stop.

Walk through the mountains and rivers, walk through the bustling neon lights, when holding a wine glass, when wandering in the middle of the night, beware of the ups and downs in the deep valley of the dead of night, only to find that the quiet and frightening loneliness, is a bloody memory, is a sweet past, is a drunken and menacing heartbreak, looking blankly at the grief that is sealed in the depths of the soul that is unwilling to admit defeat or mention. The only dream at the bottom of my heart is gradually wiped out, and the pure hope as a fairy tale, the future that is constantly copied there, also gradually whitens under the washing of the long river of time, leaving a piece of incomplete and ferocious fragments.

Empty years, gave birth to how many lonely and how many blurred, when I opened the title page of the world, found that many corners I ignored, there are small but green buds still growing, they are not washed by time, they are not afraid of the beating of the wind and rain, standing there tenaciously, looking at me, caring about me, when I am hurt, when I am tired, as long as they hold out their hands, they will hold me in their arms.

Quietly lying on my back in the quiet and peaceful harbor, although the arms can not hold up the mountains, although the mind can not accommodate the sea, but it can make me weak to be myself, but also can make me cry like a child. Wanchuan in life, there is always a river with a long flow of water, which is the warm arms of relatives, and that is where home never leaves and never gives up.

When I walk very tired, when I am heartbroken, when I am lost at the crossroads of life, when I wander in the streets of life, there will always be some voices silently supporting me, there will always be some warmth from all over the world, happy and sweet smiles, let me see the dazzling rainbow after the rain, let me hear the happy songs of birds in spring.

I want to carve them into my heart and write them into my words, so that they can become jumping notes between my fingers, tapping out affection and composing ripples.

Long road of life, met, brushed shoulder, those memories disappeared, but the words are still floating fragrance, care is still brewing in the heart, that year under the tree to bury the daughter red, and other happiness to marry you, you and I drink this cup of fragrance, respect the end of the world.