The gleam of the crescent moon reflects the faint sadness between the eyebrows, and the heart is no longer wandering, but it is still confused. There is no rise, no fall, no joy or sorrow. The years are passing by, but what is passing is not just the years.
I once thought I would be able to move forward calmly, overcome countless wounds, and lean on the red building with a smile. That little boat floated on the stream, and I looked up. Without the persistence of the future, how could I bear it? I was afraid that I would only be left with rootless loneliness and incomplete sorrow.
What can be used to save me, the missed years, the missed fate. The bitter hatred is gone, and the red eyes separate you and me. Our distance does not need to be thousands of miles away, because even if we are as close as a few feet, our hearts are no longer close.
However, love has lasted for a long time and love has become old.
Looking back suddenly, not everyone can see the person in the dim light.
The glass between my fingers is so beautiful that it is almost unreal. With a gentle grip, it will be shattered into pieces. What is more fragile than the glass is our insignificant feelings, or maybe it is just my wishful belief.
One person frowns, causing ten thousand people to tremble. You have the courage to look down on the world, and you have a face that will captivate a country. All I have is the intense pain and unwillingness.
If love becomes water in the palm of your hand. It is clearly in your hand but you cannot hold it, then simply let it go and let it become a lifelong belief.
Intention: