The following is an excerpt,
Whose sadness, buried in the sand, tugs at the wind and rotates quietly, leaving a swaying and elongated shadow, like a mottled presentation decades ago.
Whose whisper, like Sai Ren's voice, erased the most fragile sandbar in people's hearts, brought the ever-changing scenery of the sky and played rusty strings.
Whose girl, scattered in the ancient wasteland, saw the past forever through the San Andres fault and the moment when her eyes looked at each other.
Whose figure is it, standing at the tip of the world's destruction, looking at the devastated picture in front of me, drowning all the vows sung for thousands of years.
Someone planted the foreshadowing of the future on the coast where the tide receded, so the sky gradually dimmed and the night sky flickered.
So the riverbed degenerated into a dry stream, reflecting the falling dead leaves against the running water and turning into an inexhaustible sadness.
So the dawn became far away, the fish belly on the horizon turned into a sea of clouds, the original scenery was lost, and the most beautiful thread in memory was lost.
At the moment when the wall turned beautifully, you and I met and disappeared forever.
Pencil draws countless lines, but it can't describe your face after all, like a story weathered on paper. You can see the trace of the pen, but then it becomes blurred.
By the way, the name of the poem should be this, and the background music should be sadness or happiness in light music.