Money, power, status, everything can be worn away by time, leaving no trace like silk in the end. They will also be fragmented in the shuttle of fate, just like the mottled shadows scattered on the ground when the sun penetrates the shade of the trees in midsummer, and no half of the complete sunshine can be found. Only the promise has walked through the avenues covered with yellow leaves, walked through the weird and noisy streets, and walked through the lonely stone paths, but it is still as dazzling as new.
Promise is like a pearl on a high-rise building in a metropolis, shining brightly; like the red walls and brown pillars in the ancient city of Beijing, firmly preserved; like the glazed tiles on the roof of the Forbidden City in the Summer Palace, which radiates warm and bright light under the warm sunshine, warming people's hearts.
Promise is an eternal word, a word that has haunted people from ancient times to the present. There are countless stories behind the promise, and it would be in vain to say more.
It comes from the heart. A person has a promise in his heart, but what he says on his lips will appear so insignificant and superficial. How can a person who always talks about a promise understand its profoundness and heaviness?
The frivolous things will always be frivolous, and what jumps on the water is the helplessness that is clear at a glance, and those load-bearing things will sink to the bottom of the water at the beginning, making people unable to grope for their existence, but they can truly feel the call thousands of meters below and the stormy waves buried deep in the bottom of the pool.
Promise, please show your brilliance again and let everyone see your beauty and eternal brilliance.