The theme of modern new poetry writing is not limited, and the topic is self-determined. Please give yourself 10 above the line.

The setting sun repeats sadness in the mountains.

I spend time staring under the bodhi tree.

In the season of blooming like snow

I can't understand Buddhism in the world.

This makes waiting pale and helpless.

I had everyone's dreams.

However, there is only one way for me to go.

So I long for a wild trip.

Although the road is long enough, it can be described as endless.

Speaking of prosperity

I have a lonely soul.

On a moonlit night with neon lights

I began to feel inexplicably manic-

Although I am busy, who is still here?

Who left in a hurry?

I know

I can't let go of my obsession

There must be an endless road.

How far is this world from me?

Seek answers in the extreme of thinking

Deceive yourself in the kingdom of illusion

Eventually on both sides of the street

Your clothes are fragrant and your temples are shaded, and I will move forward.

And the stars and the moon still shine after the lights are dim.

This is a writer's dream, published in Black Tea, Traveling Moon and Traveling Neon.