At midnight, the moonlight accumulates and falls all over the place.
At night, I took off my disguise of strength and lamented alone. His own breath echoed in his ears. The moonlight shifts shadows, and the sycamore branches sway slightly off the ground. The wind jumped up and down, blowing the curtains relentlessly. On such a good day, on such a moonlit night, the wind is the carrier of fragrance, bringing a light fragrance and color.
The fallen leaves piled up all over the ground, pouring out thoughts like water. The night was very quiet and the wind was still. The leaves on the branches sway darkly, flourishing and withering. The torn sky, colorless nightmare debris emerged. Not everyone can see this kind of moonlight. Life is kind, but it is also unpredictable, dreamy and illusory. She is so real, so gentle, so erratic, so vague. And many things, after they calm down, become more and more separated from their true nature, and their colors become pale. Maybe at the same time, everyone sees the same thing, but their moods are different from each other.
The moonlight is like a train, but it is so far away that it is hard to catch up. If I hadn't been awake at this moment, I wouldn't have understood that when a person is lonely, the world in front of him is also lonely. If there is no wind, we will forget the gentle care. If there is no moon, we will forget the water-like clarity. Maybe the loneliness in life is not about self-pity, but about not having time to appreciate many beautiful moments. The fragrant tea curls up, but my heart is sad. When the flowers bloom and fade, no one will pity them. If love is not enough, why can life be so calm? If love is not true, why can life be so weak? If there is no true heart, why can life be so sad! The moonlight lingers, settling like water in thoughts. The wind laughs at the good time and quietly sneaks into the night.
Destined by fate, destiny. Destinations gather and fate disperse, and there is no way to avoid each other. Every year and tonight, the leaves fall one after another, and the glory becomes empty. At this time of the morning, there are weeping and mourning sounds, and it is hard to catch up with the desolation. The world is vast, but there is nowhere to settle. If you forget, the pain may no longer exist. However, can forgetting really be forgotten? It has become a memory, why forget it! The gentle breeze brings infinite fragrance and takes away infinite beauty. Life may be a cycle. But before and after life, who will pity the branches and leaves? Flowers fall into graves and people perish into dust. In this life, no one laments. Before the flowers wither, they turn into tears.
Before the cup is finished, you can add another cup. When the string breaks, the sound is faint. Who will listen? Such moonlight, the wind blows more than just sighs in my heart! The flowers are blooming beautifully, but they are blocking the night, and the night cannot understand the beauty of the flowers. Beautiful scenery on a good day, where are the people admiring the flowers? Maybe, either I was late and missed the flowering period, or I came early and couldn't wait for the flowers to bloom. The waiting of life is long but short. If you miss it, you will mourn for the rest of your life. If you don’t miss it, it is not what you expected in your heart. Different process, same sad ending. Maybe God has already written the script, and we are just many passing supporting characters in the tragedy. Many beautiful and heavy waitings are inevitably encountered, and many beautiful and heavy waitings are inevitably passed by. And the ending of the story ends with each other's beauty.
The west wind weeps about traveling in the world, but sends away people in their dreams. The flowers fall and the fragrance disappears, but the missing soul is hard to trace.
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