Picking up fallen leaves

The season of love, quietly passed away, leaving only the red leaves that are immediately falling. --sequence

The dim sunset, floating on the water lazily. The red light of the blood reddened the sky in half. The trees of the rustling red shawl, a few mournful leaves floating in the sky, falling arbitrarily, and then weeping in the arms of the Mother Earth...

Pick up a leaf, in the palm of your hand, smooth the sad tears...

Like to count stars in the summer.

The meteorite that smiles slightly in the universe is so beautiful and beautiful in the human world. It is like a bright eye, full of aspirations and a neon flashing human city. Counting on the balcony, I always look forward to a star falling. Then, I will keep it in the wish box and let it escape and die. However, the meteor will always disappear before landing. The arc of sorrow can only be hidden in the darkness of the sky. There has never been a star that can get rid of this fate - it can continue to flash in my wish box. The eyes of the night confiscated the joy of all the stars, letting those faint radiances fall into the world—this is the meteor shower I saw.

I like to pick up the leaves in the fall.

Chewing the last touch of Xinghui, struggling in the boundary between summer and autumn, wanting to cross the constraints of time and space, staying in the summer night, let me continue to count the stars... Refused me, the old man of time and space went away, leaving me alone, helplessly Take the pace to the world of autumn. Xia began to dance, in the euphemistic melody, like a bubble, silently disappeared...

The sunset is crowded with people, and the world is ruled in the red and yellow space. The delicate autumn leaves that are swaying, crying in the setting sun. The golden red path is made by autumn leaves. On the lake, calm and awkward. A few pieces of red leaves floating in the ground, sorrowful in Xi Hui. Kneeling, holding a few autumn leaves in the palm of your hand, listening to the sad melody. There is a glimpse of it, I really want to hide all the leaves in my arms and let them immerse in even the warmth of a moment. At least they won't be paralyzed in the cold eve...

Stroll on the golden road. The crisp, broken sound is crying from the dry leaves, and is also laughed by the ruthless sunset. The needless crowd never squats in the smashed body of this fallen leaf, hurried past, likes to pick up the leaves of the sky...

Anyone else like me? Just because of sorrow, picking up fallen leaves and collecting dozens of fallen leaves in the wishing box, you have to just let them immerse in the warmth of only a moment.

Third day: Yu Jing