Coming, the joy of being caught off guard.
Get lost. A bird landed on a branch.
Look in all directions, eyes empty.
The hardships of foraging are forgotten, forgotten.
And the altitude of flight.
Everything hidden in the depths of the soul is not sacred.
There is an itch that is a curse. Once awakened by alcohol,
Like mud and muddy water that burst its banks, they collide with each other.
A cage that distorts the soul, bones
Instantly lost the tall and straight color and aesthetic feeling.
Turn into ruins
Picking up the sunshine again is like clearing the smog.
In the foreseeable future. A drunken stomach
Functional recovery, can not rely on a cup of tea.
Rebuild the truth on the ruins.
Need to soothe the itch of the soul. This itch
Go hand in hand, Pi Yanping or Dakening have little influence.
Be sure to have a new relationship and make it beautiful.
Nourish the soul and let love soothe the uneasiness.
Let silence gather demons and let faith clean up filth.
Let the smart and fragrant flowers reshape the flying height.