Lovesickness is blurred, warm tears are tender and thoughts are painted.

The light strings warm the heart, the wind and the moon are shallow, and the clouds and dreams are concise and the words are scars of autumn.

In the wind, when you cry at night, you will hang your attachment to sweep your heart, fold deep scars to cultivate the residual wind, the illuminated breeze walks in the traces of your heart with the falling flower stamens, warming the sad and beautiful string sound, the haggard dream frequency cannot exude the charm of the ghost, transforming the ghost's knowledge, hiding in the wonders of the goblin, the honey-like butterfly paste dyes the fragrant drunken river, and ticking the thoughts and the spring and autumn without fate.

The face changed, the heart door was pried open, and the crystal-like diamond was gone. Lovesickness was at the cliff in the bottom of my heart, cleaning up the tired hesitation. Warmth was a piece of wound, warmth was the trace of giving, intertwined strings, staggered in the shadows of the falling leaves of the east wind, gathering the response of the heart, supporting the perceptual picture of the channel, dripping the ink of thoughts, pouring under the city wall that was persistent but not understood.

I made a beautiful picture like the setting sun indifferently, and the medicine for regret in painting is filled with tears and the torture of lovesickness. The tears of the dead bones penetrate into the frosty and ice-cold face. The shadow of the painting pours out the gathering and separation of the world. I have made a dream again and again, and I am so desirable. The road is far away, but it is not round, and my heart is broken, but I don’t pay. From then on, there is a blurred drunken river in the world, and there is more waiting in the world.

The vain cycle is in a daze and melodious way. The quiet step can be flammable. The heart is moved by the heart. The scar is haggard loneliness. The heart is the understanding that the changeable beauty comes later than the sunset and leaves faster than time. The changes in the mind can only turn into blessings. The tears that can be waited can only bring happiness. If it is a distant heart, tears can only bring in ink. If there is a meeting again in the next life, we will not ask for words in the past, but only wait for it with our hearts.

The bleakness of crying locks the water droplets of the lake, and the drifting loneliness sews the drifting love and drunkenness. If you are ruthless, how can you get drunk? If you are drunk, you will send tears of love. Looking at the new boat and looking at the tears of tears, but the mist and rain sweep away the dust. While watching, the tears of the heart once hurt people. If you don’t see that person, you will be sad again. The rain falls by the river bank, and you don’t know that the winter heart melts with the snow.

The scarred oaths are said to be done by the promise of the oath, and the tears of expectation are swept away. The remaining dreams are hooked into the heart, the soul is broken, and the monotony of oneself is singing around the songs, and the vanity is filled with the sad and dynamic movement. The vague behind-the-scenes footsteps and never continues to see each other again. The heart has been hit by the north and south, and the soul follows the sunset and looks back, but it flows with tears. The wind is farewell to the autumn and autumn, and the heart is still crying.

My heart once said, if I say it again, I never walked into the lovesickness on the road. If I don’t make any appointments, I cut a piece of the world and sweep away the destiny of my previous life. This short-term leisure, slowly carved with broken jade, and in the night lamp, I write well-intentioned, the meaning of engraving the steps, the waiting, what I waited for was no one looked at, and the tears that I always gave in my heart.

Thinking of this, the pain in the face of love is drawn to dreams of another dream, the indifferent flocks gather the continuous warmth, which is in the heart. It is difficult to keep the painting when thinking about it, and the glorious and bright love is reflected, and it is circulating in the sad and sad lovestring. It is not the tears outside that have an appointment, but the door of the heart is opened for this, and the key to longing is opened, but the glorious mission of guarding it cannot be gathered.

The hearts are silent, and there is no time when there is a ray of light outside the tears, but the steps of the past are knocking on the scenery and spreading around the tears. Is it because the knowing love is walking, or the dream of voyage can no longer continue the separation and reunion, give up, is there any more? If you avoid it, you will continue to be sad, because many scar doors are ups and downs in the inner road. It is not that the heart is too shallow, not that the trace is too deep, but that you cannot put away the past give up.

The glorious time is unbeautiful. In the time when I was unavailable, my heart was flawless and I was picky about tears. I understood that the beginning of time changes with the beginning of my heart, until I met that shocking words, is it a combination of heaven or the door of hell that must require this key to heaven. I have no intention to have a heart, and I have no mercy to allow the remaining dreams. The soul bridge on the broken soul tower is broken, and there is no chance to leave, and there is no tears to make the dreams in the false.

The depression in my heart, the confiding words, the promised sunset, no flowing cup, but the broken marks, the bridge holds tears and drops in my heart, the heart floats in my heart, the tenderness is three thousand words, I don’t say that when I parted, I think of my thoughts gather in the evening, the words float in the strings and strings pass through tears, the heart is filled with tears, the dream sweeps away the journey of separation, but the heart is hard to say in this world, how can I dream of the scars on the east building, the mind is not in autumn but in people, and the heart is guarding the marks on my body.

Tears keep chasing, heart always dreams, drawing traceless, broken in autumn thoughts, identifying a few people on the road, watching the lonely lamp sweep the shadows, forgetting the picture of persistence, love is gone indifferent, no support, what kind of trust is still left in the lonely heart, knocking on the waiting for pride, humble tears seal all words, and warming the still lost scene.

How to write the love of accompaniment in the heart is a regret in this life, there is no nostalgia in the heart, but for this, the pipa that keeps longing, sticks to the autumn in the corner, describes the tears that are beyond the strings, and the heart is in the dream, which is the heart period, and the tears period, which are both worried about gains and losses, and come, and not come, and are all painted on the earth of the world, and the wounds do not hit the sky, but the scars are swept away.

If love needs to wait for time to be a bargaining chip, I am willing to replace the time of encounter with all the years in the future. Even if it is a sentence of waiting speechless, only seeing one face will be without complaints. At this time, time cannot be reversed. The romance of heart moves eastward and does not reach the East Sea, and it will not touch the heart that has not been met.

The encounter of the sky is in the scene of the wounded and dispersed. Qiu Wuyan, the heart misjudged, and the tears have also walked on the bridge and the road of life. The journey of life is heroic. A song is about to come, the expression of the surface, the sticky confession, and a little freedom of belonging, the beautiful dream of youth is silent, and the painting of a string to help the wounded. The flower stamen was once happy, the fallen flowers were lost, the years were gone, the fresh breeze broke the dream and sang in the soul, when will the parting be farewell and how many people left?

The woven parting soul is in the silent convex string, and the stubborn cover beats the stamina of Microsoft, allowing the grass from the queen to sublimate indifferently and persistently to sublimate the setting sail in the heart. An elegant world is in the dream of thoughts, and the mood of this world is rolled up in the rest of my thoughts, and the song of giving up slowly, separated the fragrance of tears in the next life, and the deep-rooted part of the symbol of prosperity and innocence.

Autumn is here, and the heart is still carrying. Bypassing lovesickness, avoiding the dream of fragrance, gathering the broken dream of words hovering in the sky. Only when parting is done, the traces of purifying the heart are damaged and destined to write the interweaving strings of destiny. Time is so affectionate and so emotional in my heart. The face rolls up the autumn when we meet, opens the door to hell of heaven with tears, and dreams of meeting in the next life.

Lightly pick the tears and roll the lovesickness, and the deep feelings of love are painted in autumn.

When you meet ignorant words and think about it, you will be shocked by the dreams.
Chapter completed!