Memory under the moon
Memory under the moon
Whom stars make great efforts blink, want to open the sleepy eye, the sleepiness has given up the thought of struggling finally, the quietness with earth sinks and sleeps. The moon lies in the lonely figure and is the remotest places are hung obliquly at a distance, on the platform, a lonely figure looks at the overtaxing one's nerves desertedly secretly of moonlight.
The love passing is like that old Zhong as the clockwork spring, freeze all pain of injury on a sad scale. A sound of slight sigh, has unloaded one suits of fatigue. Touching teardrops are hung on the grieved train of thought. Pour out one if cigarette like past event of dream. fashionlife99
In the lost twinkling of an eye, the bottom string of that pain of flickering, does not end as thistles and thorns that are passed through, in instant and then piercing through the atrium, knock the small boat that that leaf swayed over. That emotion is so eternal as to leave, the moon is shedding the sight sympathized with, burns the eyes aching to weep during night.
Romance side by side congeal into one with blood amber already, and sad to smash the once happiness, sew a cigarette burning off such as meaning, become ashes of falling wan and sallowly.
Wind, the unable one blows, the tears, the silent one flows. Sigh and scratch the reticent long night, become a meteor backfalling bright, crash into the end of the ends of the earth at the time of one that produce.
The figure under that moon, pack up the disappointed eyes, has not salvaged once dreamland in the tears river, it is yearned for the dawn to incorporate new students sillily and sillily that bringing.
Whom stars make great efforts blink, want to open the sleepy eye, the sleepiness has given up the thought of struggling finally, the quietness with earth sinks and sleeps. The moon lies in the lonely figure and is the remotest places are hung obliquly at a distance, on the platform, a lonely figure looks at the overtaxing one's nerves desertedly secretly of moonlight.
The love passing is like that old Zhong as the clockwork spring, freeze all pain of injury on a sad scale. A sound of slight sigh, has unloaded one suits of fatigue. Touching teardrops are hung on the grieved train of thought. Pour out one if cigarette like past event of dream. fashionlife99
In the lost twinkling of an eye, the bottom string of that pain of flickering, does not end as thistles and thorns that are passed through, in instant and then piercing through the atrium, knock the small boat that that leaf swayed over. That emotion is so eternal as to leave, the moon is shedding the sight sympathized with, burns the eyes aching to weep during night.
Romance side by side congeal into one with blood amber already, and sad to smash the once happiness, sew a cigarette burning off such as meaning, become ashes of falling wan and sallowly.
Wind, the unable one blows, the tears, the silent one flows. Sigh and scratch the reticent long night, become a meteor backfalling bright, crash into the end of the ends of the earth at the time of one that produce.
The figure under that moon, pack up the disappointed eyes, has not salvaged once dreamland in the tears river, it is yearned for the dawn to incorporate new students sillily and sillily that bringing.
coolday - 29. Mai, 12:00
