I. Poetry 1
The leaves danced wildly, and the red leaves withered with a ray of yearning and breath, and were helplessly buried in the soil in winter. The last sigh was torn to pieces by the wind, leaving no trace of the sun but smiling, hiding in thick dark clouds, the wind whistling and shuttling between buildings like an air defense alarm.
The rain is falling wantonly, beating everything that can be beaten, like warm applause at the commendation meeting. It's a little cold at night, people are a little trembling, and their hearts are a little trembling. Before they can embrace autumn and bid farewell to winter, cold black powder appears, which is a bit confusing and a bit surprising. Spring, summer and autumn leave smartly, and winter has become the only overlord in this world without taking away a cloud.
Beginning of winter, the preface of his inauguration in winter, vowed that winter is extremely cold. The killer's swan song, cold, cold, stiff, barren and frozen, is the theme of winter. It seems that everything must be absolutely surrendered to the extreme cold in front of it, like a knife, losing blood from your life bit by bit. This is his irresistible will when he took office in winter.
Proud, dark and crazy, I say to you, look, you see the green hills are not green, you see the rivers are no longer smiling, you see the birds are no longer happy to call you, you see the flowers are no longer bright and open, withered and silent, you see the sky is gloomy and the earth is white. This is the masterpiece of my life.
You see, you see, you see, winter, triumphant laughter, you see, winter, dumb, trembling, afraid of you, you see, you see, that red plum in the distance reflects snow, smiling quietly, reporting the dawn of spring, gentle, beautiful and brilliant, turning to see how Dong Er still smiles, how to laugh.
Second, poetry.
Before I could wake up from the warm autumn sun, winter stood quietly in front of me with bursts of cold plugs. It's a little sudden and chilly, just like when you want an answer, you waved, smiled, turned away and said goodbye before I could understand it. Goodbye is no longer goodbye. The gray sky is like snow. That's what you want to send. It's too late to accept it.
It has long been an expired fairy tale. As the rain drops under the armpit in winter, it cannot germinate and blossom.