Think, Marco Polo

Marco Polo looked into the distance, and the blue eyes were watching with deep affection.

His eyes are like deep vortexes.

His will occupies his mind.

He looked at this land of deep love

Marco Polo felt that the blood was stirring all over the body.

His light brown hair, crazy publicity.

Pulling his roots hurt,

Marco Polo feels that he is not himself.

He is lost in this madness.

He walked on a slow slope of forty-five degrees.

The hidden light stretched his shadow.

The shadow is obliquely inserted in the sand,

The surface of the desert is smooth.

He walked step by step,

Machinery is like a dead wood.

Sturdy leather boots are buried deep in the ground.

The unconscious sand madly cuts his flesh and blood.

He bit his teeth,

Continue walking.

The ancient rhythm is melodious,

His step by step footprint has a certain fit with his heart.

He feels,

The beasts in my mind are screaming.

Whether this is his recklessness,

He must keep a certain faith,

Like a devout person.

He did not forget some kind of percussion in Huadu.

Sublimated his heartbeat,

Put his heart in a certain realm.

He thinks of the earth.

From that moment on,

He will not forget.

His right hand rested in front of his face, and his fingers clenched like a vow.

His left hand is holding a leather goods, and at that end is a tough camel, which is not lost in his footsteps.

It firmly entered this field of death and followed his master closely.

Its rear is followed by his son,

It was a strong camel, so most of the luggage was pressed against its shoulders.

He didn't mean anything,

Just stretched the neck, like being proud.

Of course, its robustness is not as bright as the pampered horse.

He is calm and unobtrusive,

Just like its mother.

He sent a long horn to his fear.

In the distance,

There was a whistling whistle,

The voice was shredded by violent.

But Marco Polo heard it, we don't know if it is his heart.

The golden camel bell makes a metal crash,

Resounding in a small space,

Then break through the barrier of matter.

Into the earth.

Marco Polo led his faith to the sky,

The camel swaying back and forth fits the rhythm of his footsteps.

They are moving forward step by step,

The sand eagle hovering in the sky is at an attempt,

But he is going to be disappointed.

Marco Polo smirked at them.

The eyes are firm.

The crazy sandstorm spreads the black wings towards them.

Showing a sad smile.

Want to greet them into the hell of Satan.

and so,

More crazy.

Marco Polo was planted in the sand.

But in an instant,

Marco Polo was gradually overwhelmed by death.

The percussion of the percussion sounded again in his mind.

Like to transcend the will of life,

He struggled like a miracle class.

He is stiff like a broken body.

But he still stood up.

His brown trench coat trembled wildly, as if to be in harmony with him.

He is like a pilgrimage,

Looking up to two-thirds of the sky,

He is not looking up to the glitz of the Middle Ages.

That is a sky in his heart.

Then, continue,

Beyond death and fear.