Cold red dust, sigh in the heart

The light is overcast and the wind carries the cool winter of autumn, and the days of fallen leaves always give us some sadness and inexplicable melancholy. Perhaps season Director has made this beautiful fragment, and perhaps years have painted this Misty rain picture, making my world suddenly lose color. Suddenly look back, but see sorrow full day, a piece...

Time, if a bay of quiet water reflects the past years, spring and autumn and winter and summer, soak every day and night. In the light of the morning breeze and the rain, I see the full bloom of the air. So in the long time, I had a breeze, took a round of haoyue, and wrote down the old youth. Looking back, turning around, and seeing the yarn of years.

The year of China is like water, and the youth that have passed by has gradually faded. Only some points in the memory that cannot be forgotten are broken into a line of sorrow. In the four seasons of change, the music is beautiful and beautiful, but it is so tearful. If it is far away from the red dust, lovesickness, from then on, exile themselves in the long river of time with the stream, and the weak pen, it seems so pale.

The west wind lost Acacia, rolling up the fallen leaves, helpless. The yellow memories are also scattered with the wind, and a season of light and faint sorrow. Maybe, after all, it is a mirror, just one accidental pass, it is destined to become a cloud smoke, that's it! Why? In this dream, the smoke and the moon have always been the end of sorrow.

Now, the memories of the past few years are still vivid, as if the bell of the morning woke up last night's dream, only a few drops of cold tears on the side of the wet pillow, cooling my heart. Years have been stranded in the past, leaving a person sad, I in the dark quiet time, waiting for the next day.

At dusk in the early winter, the fallen sun was red and colorful, and the remote mountain seat. Occasionally, a wild goose flew over, and it looked quite miserable. I can't help but feel the vicissitudes of life, the world is thin and cool, maybe, then I'm tired of the red dust, conversion to the green light, since then I have no desire. It's just that the three thousand qingsi, still tied to the sorrow and sorrow, and it's a constant, and it's still a mess!

The wind and rain to the day, the pot of the day and the month. It is a pity that the bright moon in the night sky is lost, and the stars are hidden out of the window for a long night. Before the case, the solitary light shadow. When my eyebrows fell short, I wrote a piece of Acacia. Think of the world's mistakes, such as flowers and beautiful eyes can not end up with the years of the peak, the autumn wind blowing, messy a world of fireworks.

Think more, in the long years with a pot of light look cloud volume cloud Shu, in the sound of the water, a thick tea to enjoy the flowers bloom, just, the years are too far away, I cannot reach the other side of time. The perseverance and deep affection in the wind are still telling the four seasons that they are inseparable from each other. Then, the light will grow old at any time.

It turns out that those deep and simple memories, those intermittent pictures, are just a glimpse of the sunset, spring flowers and autumn, a sorrow, so miserable, so painful. I stood in front of the window, and the bright moonlight seemed to show your beautiful face, smiling like a flower. Then, the wind swept away.

Now the tender feelings have no mailing place, blank Xu Acacia dip moon Ming. Outside the window, the wind is still thin. Maybe it's just a glimpse of the shadows in the dark, and I make a promise that will never change in my life. In the autumn and winter replace, I see the flowers and fallen leaves bring Countless sorrows, in the dark of the morning and evening, let you go farther and farther in my world. No time! I am just a round moon in the southern sky, and I cannot reach the dusk in the northern sky. Under the curtain of the night, it was not a beautiful landscape glaze painting. The rest of the painting was just a breeze of willow trees, and the shadows looked at the rest of the world with a sigh of relief.

The night of the faint, Acacia, Xiao cold wind idle sorrow. I don't have the elegant talent of mojiacheng poetry. I can't write all the grief and obsession in my heart, so I'm lazy by the barrier window and let the cold wind touch my face, freeze my heart. Is that true?

I dream of coming, if a grain of dust, lingers in the flowers before the moon, drifting in the wind of the willow, just because you did not give a look at the original. I rest with the wind and float in the past, wandering between the fallen leaves, just to chase your helplessness when you left. I know that after all, you can only be a beautiful scenery in my life, and you are getting farther and farther away from me as time passes. Those years are always the deep ocean that I cannot cross.

In the dark, sorrow is surging, and the breeze is everywhere. The Lovesickness covered by the roll-up pen is filled in the night. Originally, happiness is so short, Miss is so long. Quiet moonlight, it is your injury, tender feelings like water, and let people have a thousand holes, the flowing blood soaked in the maple leaves of the mountains, also turned into the red drops of rain.

I often think of the cold winter, the decision you made when you left. For example, when the autumn wind blows, the curtain of the cold winter opens, and the only bright spot in my heart has been washed away. With years of injury, I moved forward, gradually getting farther away from the lights of the world. But I never remember when was your return?

My world, haze and sorrow, just like a piece of sun in winter, heavy and cool. I carry endless perseverance, wandering through the lake, and relying on shadows and months, the cold wind swept through the pain of my heart again and again. Since then, being drunk with the moonlight will hurt the bottom of my heart, and those past will never be mentioned.

Your sky is bright and clear, but it is a mirage that I cannot touch. Now, I only want to see through the red dust in the years, with a light heart idle flowers bloom, from then on, with the wind and rain, In the long years will walk and forget.

Memories that cannot be washed away are like shadows that cannot be lost under the moon. They always come slowly when the night rises. Vaguely remember yesterday, the moon and the stars were thin and the wind was thin, and you held hands to see the lake in the dark. Today, Yuehua is still in the forefront of the lake?

The past is still wandering in the dust. As if the flowers bloom in the twinkling of an eye, and the silence after the hustle and bustle of the shadows. So, I will spend all my life to dilute this feeling, and use all of my life to baptism this scarred heart. And you, after all, can only be one of my lives in a hurry, I can not see the wind for a moment of warmth and your cropped Willow smile.

I once thought that time would take everything away. When Shaohua was done, only the broken year was left in the gap of four seasons. The spring is bright, the summer is hot, and the autumn is bleak, and now, this cold winter is solidification of the elegant feelings, with a cold heart to deal with the cool and thin world. From then on, I sigh with my heart and feel warm.

Even if the wind and rain work together, I cannot catch up with those passing away. My pen will not be able to write down this world. If you don't forget the ending, you will see a breeze, and let the flowers whisper in the wind, just like the bleak winter.