Love you for thousands of years

There was silence all around. The night in the suburb was especially silent, and there was no sound of fallen leaves. Looking up, I could only see the thin moon hanging quietly. The beauty of the world cannot let go of the blurred and soft beauty of the moonlit night. I haven’t written for a long time, and I have a sense of grievance in my heart, and I don’t know how to write it. I am used to recording a few words, releasing my emotions in my heart. If I don’t write for a period of time, I will feel uncomfortable beyond my words. Words have become an indispensable tool for my life, bringing me peace and tranquility. In the depressed winter, everything lost its color, and the earth seemed to fall asleep. The words are still breathing and the air is flowing all the time. The night starts, the fog is thick, the thoughts spread, and I want to dance with words. In the winter of dusk, a thin moon hid in the clouds faintly. Occasionally, it showed a soft smile with shyness. It seemed that there was a faint heart hanging over the mysterious twilight and the melancholy and silent winter. On a sad and beautiful night, the moon is the soul of poetry and the spirit of words, and the wonderful words can not tell your imagination. You are soft and cold. You are romantic and affectionate. Evoke poetic paintings in your soft light. Use words to describe your mystery. You are a soft bed, lie down and have a dream for thousands of years. The cold poetry is as light as smoke water; The quiet cold night is full of mist, and the words are wantonly in dreams. Although the night in winter is like a thick quilt, covering the heavy world. At this time, human soul is still the most active, flying season, flying time and space, dancing with words, dancing with dragons and phoenix. Life is just about talking about the spring flowers that can’t be left and the flowing water that can’t be held back for decades. Only thoughts and spirits can last for a long time. When reading some words of high mountains and flowing water, if people stay out of the world of mortals, they forget all the common customs and disputes. In a pure land, life has no greed. As long as people still have thoughts, words will accumulate in the blood, which must be separated at a certain time, and the blood will be clear and transparent. Compose the voice of the soul into flowing notes with the words of thought, either sad, happy, calm, or indignant. The season changes four times a year, and the life should also be expressed in a form to compose its different appearance. Don’t let the flexible thoughts disappear with time, and the wind passes through without shadow. We can’t keep time and keep the trace of thoughts flowing through when the invisible thoughts of employing people are converted into tangible words. The words came from silence and bloomed on the lonely branch. Words are the wind of summer, passing through the night and gently kissing the dream. The text is the moon of autumn night. I want to express tenderness, love and hate for thousands of years. Words are the snow in winter, fluttering, leaving traces in my heart. Words are the flowers of spring, which make different postures from the dust. Ethereal words were born in the dark. Words were like stars, lighting up the lonely night sky. The sad words flow like raindrops, and the wet mind sticks to the beautiful Lizhu. This sadness is filtered by the rain, like the eyes of the season, with glittering beauty. The words like the wind, through the mountains and forests, make the mind free and light. The words like the sea are unfathomable, and the heart is vast. Mountains of words, love and virtue, baptism of personality. The words like blue, curling like fragrance, elegant and slender, lonely and fragrant empty valley, leaving the world independent. Like the words of Lotus, the fairy spirit is compelling, the smoke and water dance are drunk, the blue dress is Luo Yi, simple and elegant. The words record the history, and the words mark the truth. The words sing softly, passing through the ancient and modern times. On the winter night of Xiao Suo, the words are not cold. Through the arrangement of thoughts, the icy words have an endless life. Like your silent silence, beating the ups and downs of the soul. I like you to nourish people’s thirsty soul with colorless and simple elegance. Lying quietly in a peaceful night, there hasn’t been a snowflake this year. The flying snowflakes are the costumes we expect in winter. At that time, I want to fight a snowball war. If possible, I will talk about a white love again. I will record the melody of winter with pale words.

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