The wind blows and the flowers drift, and the wind falls and the flowers remain. This is the best time. I reach out my hand and unconsciously feel the warmth in my heart; I think about you in my heart, I think about my heart, and when does love reach my brows?
When the rain comes, you hear the flowers fall, and when the rain goes, you hear the flowers wither. This is also the most beautiful time. I know when I look up, a chill will enter my heart; morning and evening, morning and evening, when will love come to my heart.
Look at the clouds calmly, see life and death indifferently, it's just that the beauty is old for a while, how can it be retained. I feel sad that the years are busy, my heart aches like a knife, and my sweetheart is by my side. Why can't I grow old together?
I will always hate the sky, I will always hate the sky; lovers cannot grow old together...
Concept: Maybe fate is destined in the past life, or maybe we meet in this life. We can't choose ourselves, but we can choose the way to love ourselves.