Please write a painful single-minded poem for me.

Recalling yesterday's sunset glow around the figure, a little light is better than a bonus. Today, however, the snow is wrapped in solitary lamps, and the jade color is everywhere, which is also clear. Although I haven't seen it for thousands of miles, I feel a dull pain in my heart. The ape was shut in the cold and cheerless, and he was full of sadness and dreams.

The snow is cold, the night is dim, and the lonely lamp is faint, but I can't sleep. Zhi Xin is a little lazy, because he has locked his heart deeply, but he is afraid of everything. I wrote it myself. . . .