This winter rain, Susan however to never had expectations. The yellow lights, lit up by my light this lonely night delusion. Some rain marks on the window outspread, bring has been buried millennium memories, light ask this pale floating. So, those, those things, will be like the memory of the surge came flooding back. Not, then again remind of, that night...
That night, the wind embellish too, listen to the fragrance of the infectious chrysanthemum...
Bubble is a cup of green tea, gazing in static product window. Like sweet, like bitter, like warm, like 凉, way out that state of mind. Will haunt along in smoke, and ends in upon the wind, aimless and dance.
The smoke of the ray of insignificant in the night, but also the only company.
Even if, in the cold wind, will the scent. She indelible shadow Only is that a heady fragrance, eventually, into heart still also become immortal mutually guard mutually cherish to.
Q winter wind degrees, the residual blown into who's pain, chrysanthemum.
If not, this long ceaseless rain, is for her silently the tears, but also not so-called purpose.
Just the flower falls not completely, leaving this should not have memories. As the years of change, even if strewn at random have the millennium unease. Still not changed, a share of the fleeing in all three season, just put in the persistent came alone.
But ultimately would not escape -- is withering fate, or, years this heartless.
But I understand -- flowers, no matter how was gorgeous, but drive will eventually fall into the dust, the endless unease, nobody would mention -- nobody would be to think of.
If not chrysanthemum again next year still, will you still remember her appearance? If my heart still come back, would you remember our love?
Wind and flooded my cry. Rays of the stain may also became a trace of rain.
Only the flower falls, has also been the lingering heart - the past... drink read
