Weeping Face

The bright sand is just serving the purpose of gazing at the ancient road, but when did it actually cry for everything that has gone away? Where should the snow in the Kunlun Snow Mountains and the tragically damaged figures at sunset in the deserted village go? Time is so empty and far away, how much damage can it cover up? A thought once, perhaps, the first pure memory is the most beautiful chapter. When it finally falls silent, perhaps, I still remember the sand, the snow, the whitest back under the sun...