Excellent prose of beautiful dreams

The dust of time can't erase the ripples of acacia. Just like a look back, a look, it is fixed on the cross of love. The entanglement of life is one after another. Who can forget the long road? Life is long and fun is endless. True love, like a chain of love, locks the painful acacia. The love under the bodhi tree and the lettering printed on Borneo are carved in this way, and whether the misty firewood head can see the shadow of the lover is hovering.

A wordless pain is always buried in my heart. In the cold heart of the night, only one person drinks. I don't want to tear the thin gauze and uncover the sad things, only the jade pillow gauze curtain, holding in my dream.

Just like the sudden rain last night, I can't forget that heartless picture. Your face is like frost, your mouth is spitting ice, and my love for you is fixed in that empty field. Like a sword through the heart, I am like a staggered sail. Without the focus, the boat of pain floats somewhere, which is the other side of my love.

Perhaps, that sentence came true: "The deeper you love, the deeper you hate." At this time, it's like being tied to a painful cross. I don't care if you hit me or cut me, because I already belong to you. Even if you break me into pieces, I will be willing, and I will never change my promise.

Your faint fragrance seems to make me indulge in yellow wine. I'm drunk, I'm dizzy, and I feel like you're riding on the top of a cloud. That beauty, that happiness, that aftertaste makes me dream, like the rolling curtain wind of love, holding my dream. I like to express my feelings with a flute in the stormy waves, and to play my love with a flute in the magnificent waves, just like your beautiful face, rippling in my heart, and I like to fly and swing with the feet of a red parrot. The conflict as beautiful as a fairyland always haunts my mind, so indelible, like the silk of rattan, which breaks my heart and lingers.

Love? Why is it so difficult! When I love you, it is so stormy, but when I don't love you, it is like ice. Is the reality of helplessness, or love is not deep enough. In short, is love really a show? Love is love. If you don't love, break up. Very realistic and cruel. If you want to get back your love, you will never understand it until you die. If you are not sincere, you will never get love. Only wandering in the air is your helplessness.

We all want to have a romantic evening, and we all want to last forever. But what is the reality? If you think others don't want to, if you love others but don't want to, isn't that an empty wandering and helpless ending? You want to let go at this time, but you can't. You love her so much, even to the peak. However, people's love for you is just for you, and it doesn't touch people's hearts at all, or it's just playing with you, which is not worth mentioning. Is your insincerity not moving her, or is your love boring her? Even in a word, she doesn't love you at all, but your wishful thinking. Isn't this the so-called unrequited love? Women are bitter, men are more bitter, especially men who are abandoned by such women and love others so much, which is even more miserable.

It is said that the clouds will clear up, but it is still like that. It's like I'm alive in a fog and madly in love with you. Only I can bear the pain of unrequited love. Lock the building, if it is empty, people will take a shortcut to the building. Hay, wandering in the path, lonely in the cold autumn.

Dusk is flying in the air, drawing a shortcut to the building. I am like a western Western jackdaw running around in a miserable cold night. The abandoned Yinchuan Waterfall in the house has long been swept away by your lotus shadow. I am like a melancholy Land Rover, like a monk hesitating in a lonely temple.

Looking around, there is grass everywhere, and those jagged tobacco trees can't find a place to live. Just like floating in the clouds, crossing the wild in the night smoke, shaking red alone, sad and miserable, so love is pathetic.

Don't worry, everything is up in the air. If you want to make a better year, everything is just a cloud. I want to look for romance in the clouds, but God won't look. Only deeply grieved, wandering in the cloud of love, suffering from the sky, the ground and myself.

The ends of the earth, but my heart is sad, only I do it alone.