Xijiang Moon by Fireworks of That Year

This is a piece of random thoughts used to find articles. A solitary journey in the white-stained mist. The light rain at dusk disperses the wind. How many years have passed but calmly. Look at the frost at the end of the world. On the cold sycamore leaves, there is a dream in the waves of the river. The rotating and rotating assembly is empty. Turning around, the song is like a dream. ---"Moon on the West River" by That Year of Fireworks This is my last record of you, which existed when I was 17 years old. Intention: If we are destined, I would like to see you again.