The Dream is the wind

Worry now. Charlotte of the year, only a few. Christmas Eve, memory as much as the cover page, however, in our hearts, threads rehearse a melancholy love story. Memory seems thin is a wisp of light smoke, floating in my mind, is meaningless to leave. Years passed, waiting to wake up empty. Looking back on the vast sky, leaving his solitary character. I do not know who is right, what is wrong, gas, only to me alone. Deep regret, take up a heavy memory, the road of life alone. The boundless horizon, where you belong.

Every time I think of the end of the world, you are lonely, bitter in my heart ripples. How many stories how much mood, days, buried in the depths of memory is not right. Is it cloud, fog or dream? Remember the past, look back on the past, the dream is not a dream, the past has been in the wind. All say life is like a dream, also have the use of dream life, can never make up for the regret. A painful day, I passed away, the pain in my heart is hard to heal. Shed tears after reading those memories with you, but apparently feel at a far distance. I have paid, but there is no result. Now, if my heart stops the water. When you are sad, look back on the past and look back on yourself. Again the rainy season, the same day, rain, not the same heart, can not copy the original you.

Sometimes the heart always have a hint of sadness, because you do not know, in you are about to leave campus, have a love fool is I love you. You are I can never reach the distance, I am you forget the past. Silent season, lost color language: Lonely days, waiting to forget the oath. At the end of all the stories explode, you or you, me or me. In all your beautiful and splendid belong to my own sky or blue, belong to my own position only lonely and sad. I know you will and you a beautiful story, I just your youth desalination diary an accident.

I know I have to learn to get used to, learn to let go, and then tell you that I confess I'm just a chance in your memory. But is it okay if I can do this? Still waiting for the pain, decided to have your memory in the rain? Westerly disorder, flowers faded in the midnight, who will be sad heart, who is struggling in the past in the month, do not know the lasting repentance? The yellow leaves of time, as if there were problems.

Charlotte, the trees, the trembling dance memories carved into the autumn, scarred, swaying the shadow of the season. Through the gray fog of the day, but found that youth tracking has not been determined, everything is wild goose. The season is long, since you go, the sky is destined to fill the rainy season, wandering heart is doomed to no other shore, I let tears in the rain without wind scattering incisively, waiting for the rainy season of death sadness. The underground began to rain again today, when I walk again in the rain drenched in the pain of love, rain and tears wet cheeks, low-sued place can not when I wish, my memory on the screen add a long helpless and sad! Looking back on the past, melancholy eyes blurred, the past is not a dream, the dream is the wind. The past with the wind, the wind away, can be smooth unfathomable traces!

The Dream is the wind