Struggles!

Only pink threads embroider the moon's circle,

But forget the rhythm of weaving in the heart.

Tortured, lingering in deep sorrow,

Even with talent and virtue, they don't meet the time.

A few bright spots remain around the uneven rhythm,

Slightly curved with a lovely smile,

A love story with promises and oaths.

The rhyme falls right, connecting to a melodious tune.

In the evening, the horizon turns red,

Releasing the region of light drifting towards the distance.

A bit absentminded, feeling aimless,

The sun has barely set, and the evening weaves its veil.

The romantic feelings rise and uplift,

Day by day, missing and longing at the end of the sky.

In the evening, the sunlight fades away,

Leaving only struggles; where does life lead?