Howling soul

At dusk, I can’t wait to walk only the sunset glow, lighting up the stars all over the sky; At night, my hands closed people’s tired eyes, and the swaying Simmons brought people into a sweet dream, the honey for rest saccharifies people’s tired nerves, and all the worries of the day are entrusted to dreams for safekeeping. Lie down and sleep, even if it turns over the Earth. What dies is numb vulgarity; What lives is the soberness of wisdom. The waves accumulated in the Heart Lake hit the bank of the soul. In the plain life, only the true feelings of pursuing ideal will never ebb; The complicated reality covers the colorful life, and the boat of life is still wandering in the wind and rain, and can’t find the ideal harbor. Although I once wanted to live a natural and unrestrained life, even though I never gave up the arrogance of young people in my heart, I could only drift with the current and feel helpless. The world of mortals is surging with painful hearts. Only in the lonely midnight can we see a handsome young man dreaming in the beautiful birch forest. The ups and downs came to my heart, and my sleepless heart was like a knife piercing the sword. I could only complain that this was the arrangement of fate. I regret that the pursuit of the whole life cannot be realized. I pour these unknown sorrows into my pen, comfort the misfortune and sorrow of the comfort soul, and let these sorrows in the deep heart turn into smoke to dissipate. A persistent voice broke the eardrum: Don’t complain, don’t be willing to degenerate, and don’t give up voluntarily. Look for it with your poet’s Lan Xinhui quality, and never believe that there is no bosom friend in the vast sea of people. The person in charge would rather live in seclusion in the mountain forest, on the top of the mountain, with a long roar and a sound of high mountains and flowing water. The sound of the piano is melodious and high; If you don’t believe in the sky, it will not dim, qiankun does not reverse the water flow? At a loss, the long night, talking, who listened? Those who die are always vulgar numbness; Those who live are always the soberness of wisdom.

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