Tears, blood, grief, and pain can no longer be distinguished, and there is no rush to distinguish them. They only want to move forward. There is no choice, because they just want to get out of the body. The inscription Each has a group of people. They come from different places, for different purposes; some for dreams, some for glory, some for home protection, some for revenge, Some people are confused. Some are willing, some are not. Head towards a place called the battlefield.
Some people are passionate and confident, some people are eager to try, and some people are at a loss. No one can choose their destiny. I can only move forward and try to change that unknown destiny. Some died, while others survived.Tears and blood, I can't tell the difference. I don't care how the clothes are torn, and I don't care how I don't rush to bandage, I don't rush to grieve. I just whisper the name of the deceased, and we move on.
towards the representative. They do not know the direction of the victory, what the victory is, or where the direction is. There is no choice; as long as you live, you have to move forward. When passion and chengzhu were mercilessly smashed by shells in their chests, when they were at a loss and woke up with blood, some people were afraid, some were hesitant... They talked about their dreams; some wanted to herd sheep, some wanted to teach, and some wanted to make money and enjoy life. However, dreams are just that: dreams, and they are doomed to be crushed by reality.
When a companion becomes a record on the death list, when glory becomes a pendant on a tombstone, blood, tears, sadness, pain, glory, dreams—everything becomes so pale and insignificant. The Companions fell one by one; some were brought down by the enemy, and some were made by themselves. When the companion was captured, the grenade that shattered the body of the companion and the enemy was not his own fragile and exhausted heart.
Night, cannonballs, broken limbs, broken eyes, broken hearts... This is the reality. However, all this is no longer important. Nothing can stop them from moving forward. They don't know what they are doing, and they don't need to know. They just want to retreat. The cannonballs fell with a crisp sound, gorgeous and miserable, falling, struggling, unable to move, one after another...
"Nobody else is going to die." Let me cover your wounds. It lets you kill all your enemies. Let your companions know. Sad tears can no longer make you retreat, only prayers, helpless prayers. In a trance, I understand that no one can change the fate that was already doomed because it was already doomed. Maybe you and I are going through all this.One day, I watched "The Wind Whisperer" again at midnight, and I had a slight feeling, so I remembered it in the northern section of the dawn.
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