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Autumn, the wind light rain, flowers, rustling, month Rourou, with beauty, also without injury.

This season, less fresh spring, light summer gorgeous, abundance and the vicissitudes of life collection time, also won a tired and sad, the lost and has a life of quick, sensitive heart, but was touched, infection, a sentimental.

Colorful time, slip away, seemingly quiet and calm, but still able to capture it on wandering vaguely through empty. Always be scanty of words, the mood is always hum about, too many words to say, numerous mood to express, only to find a vent a little comfort, using fingertips tracing the true feelings, the only audience is yourself.

The night, the safety of the castle. Sometimes, also be afraid this is black shrouded deep fear and loneliness, as if all the clouds will come in an instant collapse, destruction is not life, but the heart, can not escape and hide, fall into the beyond redemption cover.

So, in the night listening to the habit of the voices of all things, pursuing a moonlit stars in the sky. When the incessant sound in the ears of curling long aftertaste, when decorate piece of light scattered quiet air pale eyes, is no longer so tangled by those who have.

The heart, in the deepest in the world of mortals the quiet, decadent, day and month and year after year, stop-and-go have a look, but do not go out to the city. In the years ending, in the fleeting time, hug and kiss the wind, with the keyboard touching, the term thousands of mood in the fingertip flow into the saddest lines, soft and flexible.

Apparently sensitive to live, always bear a heavy fine, silent and sad. In continuously the distressed eyes, in exploring the many curious, be concerned too long, would be chaos illegible own, go is how to fall to bump of life? Life would be so bad? Happy to arrive?

The wind too, to provoke the eyes, rain, wet memory, flowers fall, for the soul, together, cold heart. Finally, autumn heart sorrowful, constantly tangled cut.

Two.

The leaves of melancholy, rain lingering, the flourishing leaves and withering flowers, already unloaded the makeup.

Memories remain wields does not disperse, heart waiting for long old. Years of cloud water Zen practice, the end is not worthy of breaking, not away from, say a heaven can be overturned, tears silently.

Like the pure white, light pink, light blue, pure green, always simple, clean, fresh and cool, not gloomy, not whitewash enchanting, don't resist, without affectation, the United States and the United States.

So, often look at a street beautiful window in a daze, Chi Chi, don't want to be near, also do not want to leave. Can't change the distances that angle, afraid of a little short of a specific provisions, and then can't be just perfect, as love beautiful. So drunk and gaze around, even if time and again, as the world is silent at sea.

The sun was clearly, no longer gushing publicity, more soft and gentle, the bright desperately covering the years pale, eyes stubbornly looking for birds in the sky, seemingly free birds mischievously fish, generation after generation only endless pairwise across, and that is what a tragedy? And who had seen their tears and regret?

He had heard, face with dimples neck or chest with the mole people, not to be missed, because she is so stubborn land mark to find previous drop of love. If that is true, but why life lonely, desolate, searching, always miss you, miss love, miss those years those beautiful.

Dew on a cluster, touch the tip of the lukewarm, scattered in the beautiful mood, out in the cold season fragrant mind, once fiery lingering cold. A clear and transparent soul, could not resist this red camwood romantic love, only empty with tenderness.

Open palm, want to let the joy was a real one, hold time, felt powerless pale.

Close your eyes, thought can shut the sadness, but found that, as the heart of sadness galloping not rest River, more think more frantic.

Three.

Yellow leaves dance with the wind, strong to worry over spilled, a paper heart to who knows?

Between heaven and earth, water shore, I see love Menchu and sand China, beauty acme, the pain penetrates even into the marrow, realistically staged in the eyes, in the eyes of the club in the heart, ice heart graceful poem, tip of the brow has hidden a few heavy.

Always like to do not to the point of the dream, peach flowers flowing away with water deep at leisure, elegant, quiet moonlight in the lotus pond, lotus nut if Zen calm, love Mei Xue dependent, white snow soft net ... ... The layers of beauty in the heart Dangqi, give a empty joy.

No worldly woman, destiny, thin cool tolerance. In fact, to never, only need a bright, a ray of sunshine, a temperature, you can believe in love forever the possibility of happiness.

It is an extreme woman, then do a thousand sails after him, only cold walking, silent indifference, empty bags, completely will keep.

Eyebrow long human weight. Sometimes really want to ignore, ignore the world, ignoring the people and things around them, ignoring all the emotion, only love yourself. But time and again to his cruel and resolute, cut off all escape, only to confidently face the messy reality.

Want to go to a strange place, off the phone, broken QQ, deliberately all cold, forcing yourself to do not care, do not miss, do not rely on, not fragile. Castle Peak water 's brink, or crusted wound easily lifted, tearing the numbness of the soul.

This life, seen the beauty of flowers, who understand the injury? Once our powder, ruined so many crazy heart, the flower, the flower dream, still worthy of pity.

In this world, seen on soft Momo, who know the Tarnished Angels? The goddess of the moon, jade rabbit pound medicine, Wu Gang osmanthus, who have their own city, but who silently endure.

Meet the warm who, who who love drunk, he hurt, forget the pain?

The beautiful leaves, who, who, who can read, wait for a cold?

Four.

Red maple leaves all over the floor, sky caixia.

Once sitting mountain song song birds, had to keep to the sun and the night alone, had unique lotus pond with lotus heart, had boiled swim flowers cry sad ... ... Each time, the lonely Cantabile, beautiful poem, whereas shallow sorrow covered with soft heart.

The most warm red earth meet, separation of the coldest, Acacia into a cocoon, and eventually into a butterfly. Don't say love, no pain, not to hurt the parting words, not only will treasure, thousands of emotion into turning the poem, in the text dependent phase v. friend.

The autumn moon, through the cold snow and ice cream, across the lonely face, in the heart of stranded long pain, but said not that feeling, like the numbness and sober, with just a life long, only to miss.

Spring autumn several years, a few scattered, butterflies, broken bridge, pagoda inclination, one off. Since then, the world into an empty city, only the memories of the movie dancing lonely miss, miss the season, recalling the life, speechless and fragrance, sweet and soft eyes as.

Side of the green grass, that a leisurely Pik Wan days, once love EI concentrated, never predicted separation. Hate hate only short, spring Yunmeng fleet, and dream to wake up, yesterday's scenery, has become today the heavy luggage, can not be unloaded, also can not exceed, and filled with tired.

The fleeting light, clear a few songs, the difficulty of outstanding margin, in the years when the ferry locking eyes, frost and dew several empty strings, infatuated Xu, dial the disorderly, insisted on chasing shouldn't dream.

The sky is clear, with pale gesture, in the spirit world pixel white appearance, expect a not separate meet, then, you are my miracle, I am your blessings, need not sunny surrounded, need only a meter of sunshine.

This one season, gone too soon. This road, go too long too long. In this life, to live is to live a hard life. How, to dream of a round?

At present, there are thousands of landscape, heart, if it is all love long, always can't write well don't draw this autumn.

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