Autumn sorrow

Autumn sorrow

The autumn wind is rustling, the night is quiet, the moon is lonely, and it hurts. In front of the window, looking back, the past is vivid. The pain of heartache, tearing a lonely soul, streaky scars, ruthless peeling.

Flying in the white, spring to autumn, I leaned across the bar, looking through the autumn water, was actually a long-sleeved swaying legend of the water, but poured my heart. Summer will be exhausted and the day will be shorter. What about people?

Maybe it’s been a long time since I didn’t get close to nature. I didn’t realize that the laurel tree was no longer fragrant, and the red maple had already withered. Autumn, beautiful as usual, and I, the mood of the past is no longer there. The state of mind, like the rapid gale, instantly felt the coldness of falling water. Looking back, I suddenly remembered:

The autumn was bleak, and the night was passed shortly, and the dawn was sent. The west wind is raging, and the makeup is stripped of the dried paulownia.

The secluded path, once had a thick green shade, once glory, bustling and early. The intestines are broken, and now the Wushan dream is absolutely

Love and hate are gone, as if you are looking at the red dust, and you can see through the Zen machine.

Unintentional sorrows and sorrows, Du Fu's voice is fierce, full of Acacia and blood stasis, no one knows the Spring Mountain.

The ruthless autumn rain blows on the window sill, splashing a raindrop, watching the pond outside the window, the lotus of the sky is scattered, the red is not a ruthless thing, turned into a spring mud to protect the flowers, the autumn rain is ruthless, the rain hits the lotus, the flowers fall Who is it.

Second day: tears, 殇