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The autumn wind has been, is a new season. Out of the window, the rain is raging, with a relentless beating and Luo Hong. Wet splash my thoughts. Has been blown away, it is a beautiful summer night, he's reluctantly let you in the past and the fleeting time of Things Past.
Despite the many people who have a heart of nostalgia, but the rush passage of time, in our fingertips, mercilessly. Like some people from your life quietly hidden, Buzhaohenji. How to reach out to you Yam can not stay. Days, so the thing of the past ... ...
Is a quiet night, the window of a person sitting alone. The window is Ruqirusu of rain. The house, such as water flow is the music. In front of a mirror, I was a gaunt, looked bleak, with Mei Yujian light of the sad lonely woman.
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