Rain a thin soft became a tinge of melancholy

That year rain scenes in my mind treasures, a missing seal let me into the flowers wither season. Remember that lean into the wind leaves leaves withered, swaying branches all over heavy attachment, aimlessly floating in the air, filled with loneliness and yearning in the various thoughts.

Rain, a thin soft became a tinge of melancholy, were few and far between generative forces ammonia atmosphere, fold a withered dream, pounded the sad road, quietly slipped in the dust, and into the boundless land. A rugged trail, winding between the rustic, road surface muddy area falls, along the direction of muddy, I gaze into the distance quietly extend, blank eyes, do not know your looking for something.

The fall is a busy fall season, roadside grasses has lost its vitality, green leaves have been falling in the Red dust, leaving the remnants of the stem also left behind in the rustle of the wind, which is stand for life, that is loss of hope, perhaps wishing to wait in silence.

A few dreams of white lilies in the fall of the circulation, love in the fall, the dream will wither in the autumn. Lilies fade fragrant, cold winter is coming. The wild lily flower, quietly and soul dreams around the sorrow, talk to the vast sky, the wind gently weep, wind waves wild lilies last affair, as mad as a blame, led by the people rouchang Subing.