Just because you fill the ocean of meditation.
You walk in the rhythm of the piano keys, and your
footsteps involve the melody of my heart. You walk in the
raindrops, whispering, leaving
the back and brewing the haze of my heart.
Those women who are fascinated by your words, they only fall in
love with your illusions when you are wandering.
The eyes beside me are just
wandering in wonderland,
but why not, but why not
take out my heart and ask the moon
if you would like to wander desperately
Poetry is just a young arrogance
I have no consciousness wandering alone
Burning violently will only accelerate death
Only by baking at a slow speed can you get lasting warmth.
Love is like this
. How can you see the sea withered and the rocks rotten and the water will flow
into the vicissitudes of life.
But is love rational?
But can love be restrained?
But what about love?
But does love have to be measured?
In the snow blowing wind
In the grassy garden
In the rippling lake
By the swaying candle At the table
I don't care about every letter that flows from the pen
I don't care about every chapter woven on the paper
I only I care about your appreciation The admiration for my words revealed
between the opening of your lips and the closing of your eyes
===================================================== ======
Finally he died. Twenty-five.
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