Painful memories

You are a little bit of starlight that I have deliberately transformed to illuminate the palace of dreams; you are the transparent crystal that I condense with tears and decorate the concept of the pavilion; you are the mirror of the heart and moon that I cast with love, reflecting the sensibility of the building.

　　 The beautiful promises are lost in the hall, the whistling flute sound rises in the hazy, and the strong aroma of wine permeates the flute sound. In the vicissitudes of life, Lantian is warm, only quicksand lingers in the fingers, forgetting the time of waiting, remembering the moment of meeting. Let the night swallow the setting sun, and the shining stars will fall in love with the earth, and only the one will light up the dark corner of your heart.

　　The immutable memory imprinted in the heart, as if the moon decorated your window, but you decorated other people's dreams. Na Dada's horseshoe is not a return to human beings, but a beautiful mistake. When waking up from a dream, the infatuated waiting turns into two lines of tears, alone sadness.

　　The eyes are clearer because of the more tears, the heart is more warm and warm because of the sufferings, and I wait until the earth is old and the land is broken. The distance between heaven and earth is a chasm that can never be crossed; the distance between man and heart is a spark that can never be touched; the distance between love and affection is an uneven bar that can never be balanced.

　　The tears of reincarnation, the love of the past life, the gentleness of this life are only for the moments of heart palpitations, the loneliness between the eyebrows, and the attachment between the eyes. Blooming words flying between the fingers, freeze the heart of the Three Lives III, light up the navigation light of the heart, just to stare at you for a lifetime, hold your hand, and watch the ebb and flow of the flowers together.

　　 That cool and stern face, that damp happiness, that air-dried memory, that evaporated vows of the mountain, is not filled with loneliness, hypocrisy, not indiscretion, but the embrace, the album, the cherishment.

Now that things have changed, the former angel, because of the momentary busyness, has forgotten the way home, the warm harbor, and the joyful pavilion, leaving only the most familiar and unfamiliar memories, letting her persistently pursue the time when she came. The road, to comprehend the extraordinary road of love, the journey of love.

　　 My heart aches. The closest distance instantly turns into two parallel lines on the left bank and the right bank. The fragrance of the lips is lingering, and the flowers on the other bank are blooming, soothing the injured soul.

　　 Love hurts, and the most familiar person instantly becomes the most familiar stranger. At that moment of affection, the shining eyes, the tide ebbs on this shore, and the hurt emotion is infiltrated.

　　 People are tired, the most true love instantly becomes the intoxicating fragrance of rice flower, the mellow fragrance between the teeth, the bitterness between the lips, the strong and intoxicated wine, brewing pure love.

　　 The passionate desert, frozen in the quicksand flying in the wind, the pure heart like water, condenses into sweet and crystal clear rain, just to nourish the desert of the atrium, so that it is no longer lonely, no longer lonely, no longer indifferent.

The morning sun rises only for the sunshine, the harbor is only built for ships to anchor, the key is only opened for the heart lock, and the heart is only opened for affection. For this reason, even if we pay hard sweat and bitter tears, we will not regret it. The process let us Have a unique memory, have the most honest sincerity, have the most intoxicating Lequan. The heart hurts, the sentiment is hurt, the person is tired, leaving behind a series of footprints of the mental journey, how can you find a rainbow that just blooms for yourself without experiencing wind and rain? How can you see the gorgeous figure of meteors across the sky? How can you seize the opportunity to taste the sweet spring of love?