viorances

Wild meteor

Quiet night moved a small bench, sun sitting in the hills. Someone says: the stars are the diamond of the poor. Can be beautiful but behind metaphors is pale, comfort themselves. Looking up at the loss of starlight in the night sky, decadent lean on the door frame, dark at the moment, nothing is difficult to see, memory that is a piece of abandoned land, weeds in the air. Dim light, long figure, appear so lonely and lonely.
Breeze gracefully playing a tune brushed grass, expecting a ray of light in the song. Like a seven rainbow of colors, condensation is one thousand years of solitude. And like a overflow sweet yuhua, bloom's firm waiting for you; Also like a beautiful meteor, the slide is the stroke of the dream-seeker fixation. In a flash, a little throb of seemed to make the world vicissitudes of life in the sea heart pumping. This is the first time I saw the firefly, but let me find alone also can be so romantic.
The suave deducing the optional and free, and I can only cappuccino line, deep and remote light, let the eyes blurred gradually in the silence. Oh, night elf in the field, the dream-like enchanting dancing for who? Why so beautiful heartbreaking? Shuttle in the abandoned in the corner, looking for what? Maybe too far away, I couldn't hear the answer. So I think I'm a firefly in the fireflies dream looking for belongs to my answer.
Look the blue sky, shallow water, I was born in the crook of weeds. In the eggs of day is the most warm, the most carefree. Although inside what also can't see, but I was so fondly imagine all kinds of the outside world beautiful, lovely flowers, the clear water. Anxiously waiting to hatch. Like a hungry bird saw the ground like a pile of delicious corn.
Several spring and the autumn passed; the already hatching there was a time I could not find the original fantasy of it all. Greeted is muddy streams and ugly flowers. And when I want to pick up with innocence and purity of residual shell eggs, only to find that has only consumed by the law of the jungle world.
Deep disappointment, but I can only obey the arrangement of fate, began to learn to a number with two hard to climb to the top of grass tip of snails, and one after the other they are eating into the brain, feeling really very boring. Even if occasionally a change, but also is a kind of snail bitter things. To be honest, I hate this depressed life, even if the snails are now let me know what power in the process of it in up to do work. So I with a rebellious hunger strike, wantonly squandered youth to build a think good and only belong to me one person in the world -- -- -- -- -- - worm pupa. At first feel good, but the pain to find themselves stuck, and surrounding is a dark.
In the self construction of the dark, wandering soul with sorrow, can't find a place to inhabit. Time pushing a failure of the wheel, ruthlessly crush, naive I am twenty years age and left behind only the fragmented memories of the past in the heavy air, permeates the loss of vaguely shining with tears. Heart down the scar mournful look, gradually understand how stupid. Once upon a time the indulgence of the Began in the desperate struggle, secretly vowed to break through this pathetic self locked. Finally, I opened a crack.