The First Wanderer in the Starry Sky

😁😁😁

When you are drunk, you know the wine is strong, when you wake up, you know the dreams are empty. The youth that has fallen in the fleeting time cannot wrap around the sadness of the memory. At midnight, I crumble and feel full of light sorrow. I want to pick up those long-fermented past events and keep them forever. I also want to cover up the loneliness of the night and turn it into the melancholy of the moon. Turn the fading thoughts into songs, and sing lightly about the smoke and clouds of the past. The lingering lingering becomes a thin melancholy, wandering at the crossing of the fleeting years, spreading the endless silence.