rth to the upward waist in the r

in Fantômas 15.08.2019 10:15
von ylq • 80 Beiträge

rth to the upward waist in the rain of the season. The fragrance of the earth nourished the developed roots with the grace of the earth, and the hard sweat poured water on the dream. From then on, the ideal boat drums set off the spirit of sail, pursue, forge ahead, struggle, and use the sweat to put the boat into the channel of hope: all the way to spring blossoms, go hand in hand; all the way to laugh and face life. When the swaying smoke passes through the ancient lattice window, when the dawn of the singer sings the bright spring, then, huh, huh, at that time, the warm architecture has a dream, the plain is submerged and gorgeous, and the feeling of drinking is also so Sweet and fragrant, the wine is fragrant. Sitting opposite, sleeping on the ground. Just guarding the earth, just keep the sky, put wheat and sweet potatoes, connect sorghum and rice, and heartbeat, and write a lot with the joyful sharing lyrics. The lonely sighs caused the storm, and the snow fell into me. In the palm of your hand, what is the drop of nectar? Still a sour tear? Ask Heaven Cigarettes For Sale, should you bury, bury or dig? Ask the earth, should the ideal, soaked wine or bubble Mengpo soup? The earth and the sky are always waiting in silence, and they have to entrust their minds to the snow. Wait, wait, quietly waiting for the falling of the snow, who makes people always waiting in the dying. I think, only love, only love can defeat the demons! From the broken foreign land, back to the dream home, the bending of the horse back is an endless thought Marlboro Cigarettes. Missing the white snow has decorated the beauty of the broken bridge; I miss the flowing water of the three pools of the moon and wash the dragonfly of the thousand miles; the lotus that misses the wind of the Quyuan has given birth to a beautiful fairy tale; miss the lilac and the lattice floating in the rain alley Beside the window, there is a celadon of jade; and, there is, the vicissitudes of the willow tree that grows at the gate of the school... Wait, wait, wait for a snowfall, then, believe the stream of the lacrimal gland It will freeze, the sadness of the past will not surge, only the embroidered mountain house will be re-presented in front of my eyes. Let's go, let's go, I am quietly waiting for this intimate snow and laughter Marlboro Gold, the snow that I hoped for has come quietly. It is light and fluttering, and its shape is full of inspirational dance. The earth embraces it with an open mind. The heating in the compartment is dissolved, and the strange faces have the feeling of deja vu; outside the window, the snow falls on the ground that has been cultivated by the sun, white and thick. The wings of Guiyan leaped through the windows with colorful light and shadow. Oh, it turns out that snowflakes are also colorful. This is a holy snow! There is nothing in the beginning and the end, and no past and present. Snowflakes will bury the logic of all desires, snowflakes will freeze all the truths of water, and snowflakes will break all the strange spells. Snowflakes make the colors in thought more pure, and snowflakes make the self in the soul more mature. My inspiration, floating from the snow, quietly descended in the home of my heart; my soul, in the sound of a snow whistling soaked in the hometown of the dream wheel in constant speed, the snow falling in the ripples. One night snowflake burying the road, who is the homesick? The treetops outside the window are covered with crystal clear ice, and everything in nature is reborn in the snow. Soon after, there will be a new myth next to the railing of the broken bridge: West Lake will witness a wanderer returning from time to time, with stubborn and easy to push open the long-lost home door, just, don't forget, enter the door to give the mother a shallow a light smile, that is the best painkiller
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