Perhaps, life is about to change. The white bones without skin and flesh will sprout flower seedlings, and the vultures will hover above the phoenix's head. Magma pours into the river, and the thirsty land is like the chapped lips and tongue of an old man. Finally, the spiritual spring gushes out of the earth. The lonely years like a fairy express the longing in my heart. When I really meet that person, I just want to ask: Is it possible for me not to love you?