The man stood on the top of the mountain, and on the other side was the rough night. Countless winds and waves rolled by, knocking down thousands of desolations. The sky gradually shook, like layers of clear gauze in the hands of a gauze girl.
There are no clouds.
The mountains and sea are still dark, but the sky has floated, with dark blue falling and light blue rising.
The lamp appeared suddenly, like a fire that had been ruthlessly abandoned.
I don't know who is holding the candle, and the wind suddenly sounds like a distant bell, but it is still swaying brightly.
Candle, there is a bright flower floating in the sea, the golden floral fragrance is diffuse, covering the mountains and sea, like gold powder.
As the candle holder walked down the mountain, the golden light tail stretched longer and longer, washing away the deep black.
So the darkness of surrender was pierced through the heart, turning into pieces of leaden gray, ups and downs.
As the candle holder walked down the mountain, the light in his hands had changed to orange, gradually tearing apart the night and cutting the sky.
Lead-gray feathers are flying all over the sky, and the night collapses on the foothills. Dark blue sways and light blue surges up.
Dawn has arrived.
I don't know who holds the candle.
Conception: