Those sad, just heartbreaking confusion

One of the world, only white and black communication in the sad corner, perhaps a few drops of tears, ripples will Dangqi sad, since there may be wrapped around the cold rolling Jisi sorrow, thoughts will be with a dash of a ray of hope , dash of longing, accompanied by injury to the distant dash of the past, those painful memories of those who lost faith when a person disappears from the loneliness, the city's floating, occasionally a child will think of playing the back, the face of those who debauchery, Across from the night, their minds whether the city with floating floating in a lonely corner, whether a seat will have its own habitat areas? Can get back to its stable sinking heart?


This time around, still sleeping in the heart it's lost, those dying of wounds, in this strange city wandering, reflecting yellow light in the street, the glass Zhuojiu, drinking a long time of melancholy, like drunk into the Mystery of Time Although this can still wake up in the searing grief, the Zuimeng see the happiness in the shadow, I can only look away from the Prime Minister, who displaced the flowers in the wind Qingyang, or high, or humming, and countless desolate, tingling, a scarred heart in the face in front of all, there is one illusion that all this is a dream, but I do not know ourselves lost in the front.


The vicissitudes of a Gu Ying, struggling in the darkness of sorrow and pain after the middle of the night, only silently observe this moment of sadness, melancholy moonlight, why this time the tears of his eyes so cold? Tears like rain, and rain fell silent, how many passed bleak years of age, when there was such a pain, even if the face of the hot sun will also heat the trembling heart, the soul can not hurt the system Yang, Ren its international isolation in the empty street, those eternal sadness of the poetic line, why always lonely in boosting the fragrance? The cycle of past lives, life's desolate, noisy passage of time will cut the Red unforgettable injury, contemplative look back at the memory, long of crazy that, in the sunset of gradually die out, those long melancholy, in the rising twilight anxious.


Already used to listen to a person singing dismal night, I heard the sound of heartbreak when, breaking the faint of Swan Song, the wind filled with the pain Zanko, those tender green leaves, covered in years of suffering in the melancholy of clothes, so yellowing of sadness slowly fall in the middle, so short, yet so sad, broken heart, has been with the Fading of the leaves and slowly dying.

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