Find the Road Alone

The road to rivers and lakes is a long journey, and the Tao is transformed into three thousand things. Do not distinguish between good and evil. All things are invisible and formless. The withered butterflies perched on the steps are the fragments of autumn's writing brushes, and the empty cup filled with frost is also the fragments of autumn's writings. At the end of the bluestone alley, the twilight fades, and the solitary shadow is blurred.