In the end, waiting for your season

Sunlight, dazzling city. I squinted my eyes and looked for the coolness of my own in the flashy city. Sitting in the corner of the wall, waiting for the warm kiss of sunshine, trying to write this gorgeous season with his only passion. About summer, blooming and pale. No matter what you want, just want to add a watercolor. That years. In The Sky of May, there is no long-lasting vicissitudes of life, and the constant Qingming oath is the persistence of youth. On the light cyan letter paper, the crooked characters write pure dreams and pure feelings. Regardless of everything, I would rather watch than blasphemy. At other times, I always smiled so casually, then turned around separately, but I didn’t know that some people were at the end of the world in a flash. Let alone the flowers and leaves, there is always a person casting sincere eyes through thousands of lights in the misty and rainy small city, expecting the wind to bring thoughts and blessings. I just want to know that you can live a good life. The kite, which was far away, was swaying for a long journey, but in the end, it was doomed to leave. A Song of parting to the talent, how much sorrow does the water flow. Even with the determination of turning around the end of the world, I still traveled alone and waved my sleeves away. Leave a kit about fantasy. So, after. In May, I was used to thinking about flowing light and writing about leaving wounds. Youlan, thanks quietly. When the last letter about love went away, perhaps, the end was always so abrupt but inevitable. Several strokes of lightness outline the shadow that is no longer seen. The reason that I didn’t care about was so deadly at the moment. I can only hang my head feebly. Put down the kite string in hand, and gradually disillusioned with the sunlight. In May, the days mixed with numerous and complicated tastes ended slowly between contentment and pale decadence. When you are alone, the afterglow of the sunset reflects the thin and magnificent shore, or the desolation at the end of prosperity, walking step by step. The footprints of the wave will spread in every memory of the Sun disillusionment, waiting for your season. Finally, it’s gone again.

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