End of season

When the dream is awake, the eyes are clouded, and the four seasons have already been cut into two sides.

At the end of the road, the green trees fell green and the initial connection was taken.

The universe is no longer moving, and time continues to move.

Lazy spring, sleep peacefully, inexplicable fragrance spread in the air.

In the pink spring, the rainbow butterfly breaks down and stops at the other side of the railway station.

In the summer of enthusiasm, the color of light changes, and simple life will not become superficial.

Red summer, noisy right shoulder, the cicada season will not meet.

Depressed autumn, the residue is slightly sweet, and the leaves are flying and spinning at the fingertips.

Brown autumn, the window sill is in line, leaving a suspense in the opposite space.

Sleeping in the winter, disappearing, the earth's air is absorbed at the feet.

In the white winter, the cotton snow is like salt, and the spray bridge ends the love.

If the water mist can evaporate in the lens, perhaps the rainbow will move after the rain.

If time can be fixed in the past, perhaps people will not be perfunctory.

Buried in the winter, hiding in the spring, only the last small language.

Wake up in the summer, stop in the summer, and finally break the silk at the end of the season.