Called sadness

So kind of emotion, with a touch of bright red, peeling off from between the eyebrows, into human society, in a pale pearl. Overlapped off the hill, Linghua tears cinnabar, drop by drop drop, smash on the bridge to spend hospital silent loneliness. Who planted whom oath, and now have time light faded; who place on the gentle brow for whom India is now a laid hold trace; who is more black hair who is so white, the Executive remain in fellowship with their girl ... ...
So kind of emotion, with wet blue Jisi, Mexico crow dragged through, Clouds drip, day Street light rain, moisten the withered face. Who is Who in the stand in the rain, hang some brutally carved with the vicissitudes of life; Who is Who in the Lethal lingering, the distance the first port in Heng Fa Chuen, Heng Fa Chuen to see open in the dead branches isolated on the cold ground; Who Whom get through a paper umbrella of the Millennium, the final sway in the river, such as the ruins of the Netherlands.
So kind of emotion, with strands of love, the slightest tangle of the heart, wrapped into a strings, waiting Fuqin people. Who is Who in the courier outside the bridge side continued to play with to be continued and the sound; Who is Who at the end of the summer the cool autumn air while playing the voice of the green extravagant extravagant; who finally broke for whom green shells, broken strings, wrestling broken the world.
So a feeling called grief.
There are so sad emergence of a bird's wings in, fly out everywhere, but leaving no trace of marks, the end is Yanzi back, has been able to return the warm south, and finally buried in the sadness of the wing in his head.
A fulcrum so sad at the toes, have been silly to think that as long as we will tiptoe away from the well-being more recent, the higher the final Hing Wah Street West, stand the more unstable and fall in more pain, grief and vulnerability will deeper hurt yourself.
So a sad memory of the wall painted with a face, a smile, a touch of his face staring, the thought would forever stay in the origin of this time, only to find long been vigorously swept away , the sad never like to rely on the back.
A grief so fixed in a shallow smile, a faint smile in silence. Mist-like smile, trickling flow into the Hongcheon not swimming. Shake swaying drag, broken flower-like youth, lost in the deep shadow of the season.
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