I never wanted to make a name for myself in history, just to dispel the trembling feeling of being a hostile customer and sitting upright. Even if I can't get rid of the fate of displacement and become a force at the end, I still have to break through the Iron Curtain without hesitation, and fight back to the dignity and blackness that have been stirred up and blackened. pride. The closed thoughts opened the cracks, Ren Er was wind from east to west, and the flaming fire of faith scurried quietly. Even if the devil who covered the sky could not be burned, let him learn the ten thousand feet of "better for jade than for tiles". Pride. Standing high and far away, it is not because of the autumn wind. The secret code banned dancing, responded and rejected flirting, and moved around to appease the flirtation. When the looming moment, the usual romantic and elegant taste was hurriedly deformed under the backlog of many doubts. The collar that stands tall seems to be a sharp tentacle, the cold light pierces through it, dazzling but not dazzling, even the windbreaker is soaked in the restrained excitement, frozen and light, embellishing the chest, and the moonlight on the first quarter. .
Don't you see, the long river and the sunset have already drawn cards, it is an extravagant hope to retreat, the lonely smoke in the desert is calling the horn, and the trapped beast is still fighting the jackal. In order to release the freedom of being under house arrest, the pioneers of the resistance movement used the sky as a shelter and did not play with the wind and drizzle. vampire. But how can this criminal who is mixed with anger and arrogance be invincible and invulnerable? Revolution is not a warm treat for dinner. How many sparks have been blown out and trampled on to redeem the prairie prairie vision. In the tit-for-tat, the vicissitudes are not pale, the pleasure of the horse leather body is surging, washing the steep heart slope, and the echo of the collision is deafening. The root of the struggle is the home, the painful understanding is entangled in a single thought, the naked soul is wet and heavy, stubbornly and helplessly soaked in the haze.
The grooves of human nature have bright spots and blemishes, and they all become the focus on the edge of life and death. Domineering and benevolent are confirmed before the gates of hell. martyrdom. The deep tile blue casts the dark wreckage, it is a comment that scrutinizes the unknown, graceful and sad, it is a cut that penetrates the gate of life, concise and cruel, the taboo of face-to-face confrontation is recognized after being broken, and it is even more pretentious after knowing each other. Looking forward, there is no beginning, no end, only endless hope of life, looking back, there is no glory, no cost, only the nourishment of continuous life. There will be long winds and waves, and the sails will hang straight to the sea, only to hope that at the end of the dream, the slowly receding tide will sweep the mess, the entrenched dark clouds will gently dissipate in the sunset, and the snow lotus on the ice cliff will bloom gracefully. Nature guesses with interest. Meditation from heaven. Hundred steps through Yang, while the charm circulates, the road is sunny but sunny, at this time silence is better than sound.
Blue, intertwined and confronted, breathing quietly in hysteria, flowing sassily, not showing edge, but extinguishing the flames. The shadow, which is hidden and covered, is gently torn in the wind and roaring, floating in the vastness, reluctant to give up day and night, and even more mottled forest walls. The shattered city tightened the belt of his pants, trembled slightly, and broke out in cold sweat. The split heartstrings broke out of the inner pocket, hanging high, humming the opposite tune. In the wrong era, sometimes quiet but never calm, being overwhelmed by hardship but never really down, looking around, there is only the transparent sadness, sweeping away in the panic and restless crowd, and razing the comfort that is just around the corner to the ground. Spicy and sour ran against the glycol of brandy, and the taste of infinity was choking. Even Sven was armed to be tough, standing majestically and calmly in the bleak and swaying wind. Being able to help the world at the same time, and being poor is to be alone. Not everyone can hold the throat of fate, not everyone can ignite the fireworks of life, and the opportunity to solve the crisis belongs to those who are prepared. Under the pressure, the iron and blood will not be broken.
Invasion and resistance against enemies have a narrow road, and are destined to perform a desperate contest, winning the position but not betting on the product. Everyone is like a grain of quicksand in the handicap. The resistance movement is not a fake, let alone a fool, but a real guy, a ruthless character who is secretive, a like-minded, understanding, and stubborn alloy warhead. It is a wise choice for those who are vulnerable to automatically get out of the game. If they mess up the game, they will definitely not be able to eat and walk away, and the god of death will come to play down the deadlock and set up scams. This is the rule, it is a sure thing, the knife is dropped by the hand, there is only a gap in the top, and there is no room for maneuver. The rules are to pray for the gods to listen to, and the truth is to convey to the people to listen to. The rules can bleach the black into white and the white into black, but the truth can only make the black more black, and the white can be wiped more. White. In that era of sneering with thumbs up and middle fingers raised, rules are better than reason. Plywood room.
The whistleblower, no matter whether he is greedy or hungry, can't get around the hard-hearted heart of his direct line. He looks like a Dounat in his prime. He seems to have the momentum of a new-born calf that is not afraid of tigers, but he is still overcome by the gap between imagination and reality. The fluttering innocence swayed in the middle of the gust of wind, and couldn't help but feel a fever for a while, burning the bottom line, playing a big knife in front of the statue of Guan Gong, timidly committing crimes against the wind. The rough betrayal was like a missile in the heart, and he left without saying goodbye, and hesitantly lingered. The doctrine defined the idea, endured the pain and tightened the knot in the heart, and the red seal on the palm of the hand was helpless and decent. When the incident happened, the curtains tied the sunlight, the eyes were wet and faded to dryness, and the drooping show shell slid into the eternal abyss. As old-fashioned as Mathilde, women do not let men, the growth rings of the years are shining with golden brilliance, above the brilliance, is the most selfless and selfish mother's love in the world. Finger softly. The messy loyalty is like a sting in the throat in the anger, the human is not as good as the sky, the flies do not bite the seamless eggs, the wrong scriptures are recited in front of the Guanyin statue, the true feelings of flesh and blood have become an unbearable death point, and the blood will stop crying. "You can't look back when you go up and down, you can't give up when you fall, you can't stop your hands, you can ride a tiger without cramping." .
Delicate betrayal is like a dart stuck in the heart. Behind the high-sounding defense is a forced indifference, calmly accept this unfathomable desolation, don't go to the canonization, let alone take it out of context, only consecrate the heart to the will of God. . After the autumn, the smoke settled into the eyeliner, the heartbeat braked to the end, and the twilight spirit collapsed to the boundless frontier. To seek life and death from the root, don’t distinguish the turbid and clear from the tributaries. Shaking does not necessarily mean weakness, and upholding does not necessarily mean noble. The heart cannot follow the feeling, and everything is left to nature and fate. The karma of resistance is long and long, and Gu Kaiyuan is even more serious about blocking the flow. Those who come will not refuse, and those who leave will be detained. The believers pretend to be deep and bow to the sacred rules. When the boat was broken, the faces, emotions and scenes were overcorrected. The face of the Buddha and the face of the monk were also shielded by the eloquent words, and the face was stagnant. Single long sleep, tireless. Unpredictable circumstances, people have disasters and blessings, and the pioneers of resistance are in the lead. They only know how to bend bows and shoot large eagles. In the past, when people were separated from each other, the scars that remained after the battle had been corroded, but the lingering fear still lingered after cooling down, and it was painful. Looking back again, how many pains and confusions, returning to the hometown in the night, small entrance, upright, silent, only tears.
The resistance organization is built upright inside and out. Fighting against each other in the same room is a last resort, and moving flowers and trees is the trick of the road. The eagle stands like a sleep, the tiger walks like a disease, the mysterious belief Ling Han opens alone, and he stumbles with him like a shadow, knowing that it is not snow, but a dark fragrance. A piece of ice is in the jade pot, and two Kunluns are left to save the liver and gallbladder. Occasionally, although the morality and righteousness are eroded by unscrupulous means, sometimes the ambiguity becomes self-defeating. Gerbier secretly thought about a way out in the occlusion, and did not hesitate to pass on the pain of hemostasis to others, and finally escaped from his shell. On the empty street, a ball of lightning trembled across, and the ethereal spirit was empty. Fortunately, luckily, the pool of blood whose color could not be seen in the middle of the night did not spread from one place to two pools. Gerbier is like a piece of ashes, not handsome, inactive, and without a future, but after the intensity is exhausted, he is able to do it with ease, ups and downs with dignity that does not collapse, and is wrapped in pain that is not piercing. Sunrise in the east and rain in the west, a coat and a little change project a bit of care, soothing like a trickle, the moment when the eyes cross, close but not sticky, the two silent men have already tacitly understood, the touch of a dragonfly is more than a touch of water. Thousands of times. After escaping the catastrophe, the desperate fighter was once again bound up with running, and sprinting within the range was more frightening than walking on thin ice. Bullets do not have long eyes. Under the frantic muzzle, out of the instinct of survival, he desperately races against the master of fate. Miraculously, the comrades stretched out the hand of God at the critical moment, Gerbier's life was hanging by a thread, and then he took the rope and fled, waiting for the cold and heat of the adventure to drift away, but he owed a debt of shrinking in his heart, dodging and daring to speak out. The wind rises from the end of Qingping, dances under the pine and cypress, and the madness is like a thunderbolt. Instead, he tortures the sandwich compass that once rolled over. Gerbier tries to get things right while asking himself. Since you can't escape the pervasive curse, you simply stay where you are and keep a low profile, face the bleak life like a pillar, face the dripping blood, and cash out the lost soul. No gold is bare, no human being is perfect, thousands of hammers have carved out the rivers and lakes, and there are few innate talents.
"The wall stands for a thousand miles, and there is no desire to be strong" is a cry, but also a sigh. The revolutionary waves slapped against the reefs, with a strong sense of role splashed with blood, and the "Kabbalah" was implanted in his eyes. The real warriors are like dragons out of the sea. In order to save Felix, whom he knew well, François cast himself into the trap and entered the tiger's den in Longtan alone. He lived in a cloud of mist and rain for his whole life. It seemed that a Marseillaise sounded in his ears, but auditory hallucinations are always the overlapping shadows of being entrusted and envied. Lin Yuan envied the fish, it was better to retreat and make a net. Even if the fish died and the net was broken, he had to try to retreat as an advance. A cyanide cast a purple-gold shield from the devastated eyes after being ravaged, leaving the heart of the soul in the history. In the cold night, the spring tide brings rain and the rain is imminent, and there is no boat in the wild crossing. In the silence, the ghostly ultrasonic waves are mixed with the natural sound, which can be measured and inaudible, making the gospel resounding in the clouds a luxury. The presence. Summer does not swing a fan, rain does not open an umbrella, blood is an alliance, suffering is a pain, there is no sadness and dark hatred, the antibody is like the quiet Don River, sometimes kale, sometimes plain white, sometimes wine red, and the coloring is different and generous . Love is on the line of fire in the movement, but seeing that sudden death is marked as a symbol, a piece of heartbreak that is undefended and cannot be relieved, the wind on the shoulders was crushed when another person was hugged by a bear, the sun Shrinking into a wreath, withdrawing life with a statement.
Painful memory! But I still welcome you, because you are my long lost youth. Seagulls tease the blue sky, shells kiss the beach, eagles hit the sky in the silent years, hundreds of boats compete for the stream, accompanied by beautiful dreams and wandering the world, waiting for the call of the Holy Spirit, the elegiac couplet of the moonlight spreads to the horizon. Farewell for a while, the luminous cups of wine and wine are left, and those who want to drink pipa are urged immediately, and those who are swept in by the tide can't get out, and if they leave the tide, they will be nothing. However, he made Longcheng Fei’s generals there, and he did not teach Huma to ride the Yin Mountains. Sometimes he was at ease, and sometimes he was helpless. He happily shuffled the cards in the rain of his heart. Mu Nantian Yizhu. Let's listen to the wind, stir up nostalgia, the fighters who refuse to obey, dance to clarify the shadow, swing the twin cities, and regret that this body is not mine. And Wen Yulin, embroidering nostalgia, holding a fragrance to smell its sadness, right and wrong turn around in the air, not far away, fluttering like a gull in the world.
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