The time of the hourglass

Some people, some things, like a lost the colorful fireworks in the wind, gone, scattered. Archaism cloud. On the sound. In three days. Junior iii. Shall not be played. Perhaps only know pity, could last forever.

My heart like a point, it is you can't see. I hide it in my heart, and my heart, is you won't know for dust. In the past there are a lot of irrelevant words want to say to you, or my stubborn, my patience, I not language, hope you can see through; Or I'm sorry, I lost, my silence,

How time flies, life is like a play, stories such as song. Candle light sandalwood, alone and lonely night silent disconsolate, in weighing, play music and dim, unknowingly stay stupidly injury, cut constantly, as if falling ChenKong, Richard also disorderly. Cloud but sorrow worries outside.

The rain outside the window, fell in memory, remembered everything. Quietly listening to the echoes in the ears of music, trying not to let the thoughts into my mind, but there will be a crack, then, let the thoughts were overrun, slowly break my last line of defense. During the midnight, the quiet alley, yarn yarn withered leaves, gently across the heart that a lingering injury. Someone says: music can relieve QianMian, but when I put on my headphones to the largest, sleepless thoughts to soak the swelling in the eyes... Burning cigarettes, spare me sad lonely life, like a a breeze blowing, dry all all...

Time, time, age, pure white enron, forget of, become a thing of the past; Forget not to drop, to be buried deep memory.

In ten thousand, by the immortal; Miss more than, derived from not broken; Both played Mr Siew, heart missing lock me.. How many laugh, dance in days, and how much pain, become plumes of dust in the cycle. That moment, you finally found, it had deep love people as early as in the farewell of that day of, already disappeared in this world. In the heart of love and miss, are their happened. I think that some things can be forgotten, some things can memorial, some things can willingly, some things have been powerless. I got a purple kite only for you. He drew a scene for you from the city of. Then you ethereal voice disappeared in the ear.

The time of the hourglass is precipitating cannot escape from the past, memory hands always picked up the beautiful grief. The memory of youth wing, cut wounds; Yesterday's tears, aroused heart of ripples. When time flies, in the past. When the content is not, and people. When feelings, become tired. When the world, filled with black. When experience, as doomed. When the life, let I regret. Entanglement is look I can't control, only endless reality.

Cruelty of reality. Volatile happiness. Invisible, are they really not there? Remember, never disappear? Scenery, a long period may not be the same the rest of my life. Those who think that would have been accompanying, originally had let go of his hand. Reflection left hand, right hand time youth appearance I had a stream...