The Last Soldier

A tired and vicissitudes of life voice, a very quiet narration, in the middle suddenly appeared the same cold and silent child's voice.

In fact, after the chase, it is not as sad and painful as imagined. What can be seen is the graceful words and complex emotions. Wind and snow are frequent visitors in the poem, and maybe the squirrels that accompany the four seasons are also, but the mighty waves of wheat and the rough sea are together. The coldness of the rainy night stares at the black shadow in the white snow. The unknown traveler becomes the last soldier. Will he see the warm red at the end of the chapter, or the endless pale? The poet sprinkles the past with words, and the drifting hope is pinned on the dawn of the future. Perhaps it is the exaggeration of Kuafu Zhuri, or the nature of the sunflower. What was he thinking when he landed on that land? The meaning of his life can only be proved by a dark medal and a weak old friend. How sad that those words may remain forever in the gentle land of the mother river, known only to him. Only the stone tablet with residual warmth has witnessed his decision. However, the memory of flying alone for 1,200 days tore open his blazing heart. The burning liquor rose from the abdomen, and the remaining smoke was hidden in the clear air. A letter with nowhere to go will eventually be forgotten. His warm past invites a cold future. What never changes is the soul yearning for the scorching sun, but staying in the cold is too long. If you get close to a trace of warmth for too long, you will be burned. He will swim across the sea with the waves, and be buried in the vast darkness with the heavy snow. He will stagger behind his mother, just like when he was a child, rising with the sun and setting with the sun. It is difficult to piece together the ending of his life with monotonous words. The fire burns in the wind and snow, and the wind and snow pass through the fire. They coexist and never stop. That is a collection of heroic poems.

This book was recommended by a friend who also liked Su Duqin, so I turned around and ran over to take a look, and I felt like I would never forget it once I saw it. I am not the type to talk too much, but I still want to ramble on about something because of this shock. The Soviet Union really concentrated the best ideals of mankind, and its collapse was also driven by the most despicable delusions of mankind. The collapse of the red giant is unbelievable but has become a reality. Looking back from now on, only the gray shadow of steel is left, and the dazzling red seems to have dried up like his blood. As for Gin, he is a figure in the darkness. This is his setting, so Gin cannot have a Russian name as Gin, just like that young Soviet man has been buried in the grave with that behemoth. Just like the origin of Su Duqin's setting is unknown, so is Gin's real name. There is no name worthy of him, or all names may point to him. Because in fact, when the collision between TopKiller and the red believers began, gin was no longer just gin, but more like a conceptual hope and despair. Hope that there were followers of the red giant, and despair that the shining North Star had fallen irretrievably. The believers who had been under his wings were as desperate as we who looked at it from a distance across the ages. Language is really powerless and cannot accurately express the excitement and trembling of my mood. But the person who first combined the two concepts of gin and red faith was definitely a genius. The decisive feeling of faith falling into the abyss is the most attractive thing about Su Duqin. It is like a meteor streaking across the sky and the sun falling into the mountain abyss. It is precisely because it is irreversible that it is so shocking. It was not fate that wanted to kill him, but his loyalty and belief that chose death, so he died generously. Except for the resurgence of the red giant, neither power, beauty nor justice and fairness can save it. This is the beauty of Su Duqin. In the end, Su Ziqin's food was really delicious, and the red teacher was really good to us back then, but this only means that I miss him and don't want him to come back to life, because the red tyrant later has become a real tyrant, just like what my wife said in the article, he wants to be the father of all socialism, which is absolutely not possible. He was not good to us at that time and he was really bad, so he said that the dead bear is a good bear. Of course, he was our good teacher from beginning to end. He taught us socialism and technology during his lifetime. After his death and some time before his death, he showed us all the paths that socialism cannot take, including bowing to the West. It's hard to say whether China's insistence on following the socialist path without making any changes or bowing its head is also influenced by this aspect (乐). Of course, and, do you want my wife's materials? (Straightforward) (Compare your heart)

[Yu Xiuhua: "The train in my body never goes on the right track, so it allows heavy snow, storms, mudslides, and absurdity.] This sentence may express my shallow understanding of your writing.

I really like the author's description of Gin tearing himself in half, half following the motherland without hesitation, and the other half sinking in the darkness. But people cannot be torn in half, only dead people remain in the two halves. The spirit cannot be torn in half. There was once a red giant who separated the original road from the soul and died in the end. It was no surprise when Gin committed suicide, as if he finally discovered that he had died a long time ago.

It was a grand and silent funeral.

From a small ball to a big ball, and then from the big ball to small balls, a good metaphor

One thing to say: I never thought Gin would die so... Lonely, but now it makes sense. His yearning and anger have already settled into ashes. It would be good to just submerge them quietly in the snow. At least he can meet the long-dead souls decently.

I read it again quietly, feeling that I had a thousand words to say, but it was difficult to express them. So I wrote this paragraph. The words do not convey my meaning, and I hope the teacher will forgive me. I always feel that the gin described by the teacher is like an isolated island, like a lone bird, the KGB is disconnected, a motherland that travelers in foreign lands cannot contact, a hometown that cannot be returned, a bird that can never return home, a martyr, he is indulged in illusory fairy tales and falls into the bottom of the bottomless valley. Romantic and lonely. Ah, the ending of being addicted to the sea is so peaceful (?) It is like a pebble falling into the water, floating alone without causing any ripples. Traveling through the blue screen, calculating and constructing a false dream, I had a dream that I couldn't wake up from. Good night, good night. Jihe burned the boat, and he was willing to do so without any retreat. Speaking of the accordion, it should be said that the Soviets are really good at art and architecture. Some time ago, I watched a video on a certain platform of an old Soviet man playing the accordion on the street, and at the end he played our country's national anthem. Ah, really, the red bird flies to the east (?) Have you seen the white bird flying through the dense birch forest? That bright red badge in the snow, ah, it's so lively and dazzling. Later, I exchanged all the money I had for the medal. Yes, it was a priceless treasure. Hey, what the boss said, "When you receive it, it's worthless." He gave me a forced smile and a strong sadness arose spontaneously. Suddenly I thought of Liu's "Full Band Blocking and Interference", how come the medals exchanged for blood... Ugh. I just suddenly felt an indescribable sadness. Speaking of which, I have always liked drifting bottles, wandering in the sea, occasionally staying on the coast, and wandering for a long time. Suddenly, I thought of the letter written by the Soviets to the future that I saw some time ago. It was really, ah, ah, just a few words can't describe it. People who longed for the future, but also witnessed its destruction, like a magnificent dream, so I can only say that it was a beautiful "fantasy". The soul is like a blazing fire in the wind and snow, defeated by the so-called chronic disease? No, it is clearly stuck in the quagmire and shining brightly. It is an immortal spark, endless and ever-warming. People of faith are moving forward, looking at the red, upward, upward... Spiritual sustenance. Oh, it is really wrong. It is clearly a tragic epic. My heart is hot, but I can't look back. It's just that things have changed, and I just can't see the warm sunflowers clearly anymore. I really like reading letters. The feeling of rubbing them with my fingertips and the emotions they express are so beautiful. I suddenly remembered the saying "When the body ends, the soul will never end." We have always remembered the eternal spirit. To the hottest, the sun. And I really like the phrase "Only the rock and his spirit last forever." It's like the story I met when I was young. It was written on the beach but would be blown by the waves and disappear quickly. However, it was engraved among the boulders and was as solid as a rock, and it remained the same regardless of the sun and moon. For a long time, the soldiers of the motherland have been guarding the motherland and guarding the red flag, which can be regarded as a kind of psychological comfort. But people's faith and hope are truly eternal. Ahhhh, the words are incoherent, I don't know what I am writing, and the words have no logic, but I really like this article. The cover is also very nice without material. Thank you to the teacher for bringing us this article. The ideas contained in the article are also very interesting and resonate, and the character story is also very good. So we are all moving forward and upward. Good night!

This devout apostle has only the eternal glory in his eyes. He will follow in the footsteps of the giants, the last unknown soldier, calling his mother with fireworks.