It's another snowy day, and I like to lean against the window alone, listening to the whispers of snowflakes, and letting the melancholy time disturb my thoughts.
Looking at the flying snow fluttering outside the window, holding the memories given by the years, there is always a scene of accidental encounter in the snow in front of me, listening to the wind singing, watching the snow dance lightly, the face is cold, I can't tell whether it is snowflakes or teardrops.
The cold wind hissed, blowing up the snow all over the ground, desolate a place of thoughts, rolling up bursts of lovesick remains, inadvertently blowing up the bun, I don't know when, a piece of white snowflakes falling from the sky melted in the eyes, and the inexplicable tears in the corners of the eyes converged ......
Many times, while enjoying the snow scene, while falling into memories, a beautiful winter snow, the world is white, covered in silver, who can understand the desolation and suffering behind the snowflakes, fluttering and sprinkling the falling snow without direction, just like the fate of people, can't see clearly, can't touch, can't guess, love is trapped in it, can't see themselves clearly.
The dreamlike drifting snow, whose eyes were lost, whose hearts were lost, whose lovesickness was broken, the wreckage left behind, and the patchwork of a curtain of dreams.
The cold night can't hide the sad past, the bright moon can't piece together the images of missing people, and the bleak winter wind can't blow away the pain and melancholy in my heart.
Cold as the heart, sad as a dream, sad as a dream.
This winter, still continuing the sadness of the previous season, the end of the gaze, can you use a look back to resolve my obsession.
The cold winter, just like this, is coming, cold, stirring the loneliness in my heart, I have always liked the snowy weather, Looking at the white snow, decorating the bleak winter with its gentleness, every snowy day, I will remember, Our acquaintance, no invitation, just like the snowflakes have never agreed with the winter.
On the snowy days of the past, Xi was used to staying alone under the heart pavilion, looking back, the years were thin, but my lingering memories were thickened.
Without you by your side, memory, like a wind without direction, blows away the traces of the passing years, messy footsteps, walking through the long four seasons, reincarnating in time, guarding the red dust, guarding the warmth of the snow in winter, hiding the occasional broken thoughts in the heart in the dark night, and burying ...... under the snow
Winter, is simple, but also quiet, quiet can only hear the sound of the cold wind rustling, the arrival of snow, so that the lonely days, but also a touch of poetry, cooking snow tea, snow brewing stories, that faint taste, is the lingering taste of longing, is cool and sweet and bitter taste.
On snowy days, you are like snowflakes, gently coming and going, leaving me with only thoughts that are all over the sky.
The years have passed without a trace, the words are sound, the silent days, sitting quietly indoors, watching the clouds drift by in front of the window, with a dust-free heart, let the snowflakes warm and lonely souls, and hide the thoughts in the snow, but it still sprouts in the winter night, blooms in the dream, and grows crazy thoughts, can not be avoided, cannot escape, and cannot extricate themselves.
The dreams are lingering, the hatred is withdrawn, although, those past, that name, like the breeze of immortality, through this winter, come and go again and again in my dreams, Shu roll, suddenly near, and far away, in the dream, always see the flowers in the fog, I can't see your ......
The season of snowfall, let people meditate on the dust and smoke of the past, perhaps, destined to some people can not accompany forever, the white snow, the sorrow and joy of the years, thick cover, dawn, out of the dream of the virtual, finally to face a person's loneliness.
A falling snow, a curtain of hearts, thoughts fluttering with the snow, the snow dancing with love, the tide is like poetry, perhaps, this is the best ending.
When the thought is judged to be indefinite.
Go to ** search.
Spiritual conversion.
Falling snow.
Pale and pale. Memories in the wind.