Autumn

In the morning, I was called by birds again. Seeing the fallen leaves outside the window dancing gracefully, it startled the autumn wind for a while. The scattered ferns were dotted in it, and the leisure of evacuation came into being. Therefore, I lit it with a cigarette, sat idle, listened quietly to the sound of autumn, and watched the scenery of autumn. Looking through the plain notes soaked in your mind quietly. The corridor of memory brings some inexplicable melancholy. Imagination always grows in places you can’t see. The floating leaves gently touched the face of the years. In the era of pure water in the years, only a few wisps of fragrance of memory were left, which were flowing everywhere. The dew falling in autumn is lonely and fascinating. The sunset glow dyed the drunk dusk, smearing a faint color on the Daydream sky. The fragrant fireflies shuttling back and forth in the world will suddenly feel that they are like a delicate dandelion and can not see the outline of the years clearly. The beating tip of the pen breaks the lingering years like water. On the road of life, there are not many scenery that can stay in the bottom of my heart. The residual image in my memory made many people search hard in the autumn season. I hope that the lonely soul will not drift from place to place any more and can find a place belonging to itself. I am used to holding the plain pen in my hands, and the lonely sigh seems to be as clear as yesterday. Destined to meet each other from a thousand miles away, or not to meet each other. Maybe, in the dark, fate has already been doomed. I can’t help thinking that we met in the crowd of thousands of people, neither earlier nor later. We met in this way, and we were impartial. Then gently greet: Oh, you are here too. Every time we talk, there is an inexplicable warmth. In this happy and sad day, one person can read another person to sleepless. I used to see Huang Ju farewell to you, but now I can hear Xuan Chan. The cicada of autumn, do you still remember our appointment? Looking at the yellow floc on the ground, who can stop and look at the long gate alone? Graceful and graceful memories are shown on tour in the cinema of life. In my life, you are destined to be my insurmountable love. I will write the misty rain all the way into poetic lyrics. I hope that one day, you will follow the thread of autumn and sing the warmth like water and years. The years are passing ruthlessly, but our story still exists and the flowers of yesterday are still bright. Tonight, Xinghui drinks and sings. The horizontal pipe blows a flute, making a romantic song of the world of mortals melodious and lingering on the pavilions, pavilions and pavilions. Fuqin splash-ink, writing poetry incense, with each other, End of Time. In the quiet autumn night, I gently held the warm sunshine of autumn and dyed the fragrance of the whole world. Let the whole life be charming and light, sing around the whole life, smile and enjoy the beautiful night together. The call of the soul flows silently with your fingertips. I wish myself a beautiful reverie and collect my love in autumn. Your fragrance cleanses the endless sadness of wuzeng and softens the blue ocean in my heart. The elegant fragrance fills my empty heart. Since ancient times someone autumn. However, I appreciate the sadness and loneliness of every autumn since ancient times. I say that autumn is better than spring. Because autumn makes us know how to look at it. In this autumn season, a thick feeling is accumulating. It is also in this exciting season that it is easy to think of the Daydream pursued day and night in my heart. In the autumn of that year, you and I held hands to cherish each other. How many beautiful times did the world of mortals meet. Inch paper square note, poetry has been carried out. Your coolness moistens my heat mania. Even though youth is fleeting and fireworks are cold, I still stand by lovesickness Lake. I will put my eyes into a tough string, crossing the horizon and accompanying you. However, in autumn, I like to be alone. Being alone with nature seems to have a feeling of creating everything in my heart. Everything is born in the heart, and everything is destroyed in the heart. I like the fields in autumn, watching the continuous clouds in the sky, birds returning home at night, and farmers returning home. At this time, there was Chen Ziang: The former did not see the ancients, and the latter did not see the people. Thinking of the long time of heaven and earth, I cried out alone! Feeling. I like this feeling, being away from people, and the night is desolate. Time flies, in the long scroll of fleeting time, only the imagination of autumn. Everyone has his own imagination in his heart. To be honest, the leaves will fall down and will not grow until next year. Just like the autumn wind, the selfishness in my heart should be cleared. When it is time to fall, it will fall. I always want to hang it on the branch. Year after year, the soft branch will bend or even be broken. Autumn is full of love, and the wet Heart Lake is everywhere. With autumn, hold a volume of yellow poetry; With autumn, weave words without sleep. In the wind of words, in the autumn wind, the sky is high and refreshing. Like (prose editor: Jiangnan wind) the snow in spring

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