Beautiful and sad sentences, to be a little more vulgar

Blue and white, branded, embroidered pillows. Inn, cold lamp, the end of the world. Look at the flowers in the fog and look through the prosperity of a lifetime.

After many days, sadness and joy are empty, lonely shadows, residual water, and cold words. Faded clothes, lost to loneliness. Leave love to you and warmth in winter.

Half-lit fireworks and make a promise. Borrow the light of your dazzling world, break the coolness of the north wind, and turn the wound between your eyebrows, how hopeful, hide in your dreams...I carry lovesickness to the end of the world

The clouds do not retreat, you lock your eyebrows, and your thoughts are piled up. Lonely to follow, looking at the autumn water, speechless...A quiet valley with dry lights and countless winds and snowfalls.

The thousand-year-old white fox, the bones are left, and the years are several degrees. The piano is wound, played all night, and when it is quiet, the heart is at ease. 461901322 go to the space to copy.

Look for. Lover

Author: Snow Butterfly Funeral.

You stand in the clouds watching over me, my love!

When the sun sets in the west burns the clouds, you take me to pick the red glow on the horizon.

You stand in the clouds watching over me, my love!

When the lonely night locks my sight, I am intoxicated by the tenderness of your lamp through the window.

Are you standing watchful of me, my love?

When I get lost in your lush forest, is there you in the depths of the green sky?

Did you go ** my love? And then I was no longer me.

In a hurry, I seem to hear the rhythm of your heartbeat, but after all, I was in too much of a hurry, and by the time I came back to my senses, it was gone.

I looked around for a moment, maybe I was looking for it.

Did I lose you?

It is like a traveler who has endured hunger and thirst and has lost his way to walk in the bleak desert night.

Have you forgotten me?

Like a half-colored butterfly, it flew into the bamboo forest, and no longer cherished the charm of flowers.

Did you go ** my love?

When the sound of the piano becomes angry, when the colors become chaotic, where should I put my life?

I'm sure I'm no longer me, and the moment you disappeared you took my life!

I ran around looking for you, and I didn't stop until I heard my heart pounding.

Is that the familiar sound? Yes, I feel like I'm hearing your heartbeat again.

Yes, I'm no longer me! Because I am you, you are also me, you have always lived in my heart, my love!

You watch over me in my heart, my love!

When I surrender my life to you, you regain your tenderness in my heart!

Three glasses of wine.

Light tea, clear drink, laughing hegemony.

Mount Tai does not give up the soil, so it can become its great rivers and seas, and does not choose a trickle, so it can be as a personal person, we are not a model for others in the future, but the object of reference for others.

Although we can't be together, it doesn't mean I don't love you!

1.Fingertips.

In the quiet separation.

Slender fingers.

Can't keep a turn distance.

Flowers on the nails.

Glamorous. but withered in an unknown corner.

2.The little fish that slip away are always the most beautiful.

Missed movies are always the best.

The lost lover always knows me best.

3.When the days become the old**When the old** becomes a memory, we become passers-by who walk back to back, along different directions, stubbornly step by step away, there is no Athens, there is no Rome, there is no way back.

4.Who is the passer-by in life, who is the wheel of life, the dust of the past life, the wind of this life, the endless spirit of sorrow. In the end, no one is anyone's who.

5.Listen to the broken strings, break the three thousand obsessions. Falling flowers are annihilated, and the wind ripples are annihilated. If the flower is pitiful, it falls on whose fingertips.

6.The elf of light is colorful, red, orange, red, green, blue, and purple, that is the pride of the spring to it, the elegance of March, the dew on the petals reflects the softness of the whole world, I shake it off and hold it in the palm of my hand, and dissolve into a drop of bright color between my fingers, condensing into the only immortal memory.

7.When will you see you here?

On the sleeves, there are empty cry marks.

At the injured point, the high-rise building is broken, and the lights are already dusk.

Hope you like it.

Those things that seem to have no reason are actually justified, but when we are too young, we still can't understand the specific cause and effect.

This youth is no different from any youth in the world - the sorrows and joys of life and death in the years are also like wildflowers burning on the vast road of life, decorating the dreams of passers-by.

Youth is not the youth, but the state of mind; Youth is not a peach face, red lips, and soft knees, but a deep will, magnificent imagination, and fiery feelings; Youth is the fountain of life.