Far Away Galaxy

There is a kind of tactic named to be lined in the ancient poetry with instead, is used in here, very helpless.

Just as not know the teenager who worry about, turn one's head suddenly, hope to try the ends of the earth best, does not know where the step should be extended to yet.

Want to compose the neologisms and speak worrying strongly, just deception and comfort own excuse, do not know that know whether will shoulder the light and look at swords, send forces to suppress me while the signs of getting drunk in the hard old underground.

Is it really like this? Want to compose the neologisms? And relieve oneself so, that square narrow stone rank, how is long hair held faintly numerous and complicated?

After one year? Still remember the information that I send silently while seeing off: "Wear the hair being long and long, let me think time is growing too, in a place that can be touched. " It is really so, the hair of breaking up and waist, I seem to touch heavy time to pass by step by step, every footprint, the all absolutely clear one is carved above. Tell me, this is not dreamland! The ferocious and beautiful one is contradictory.

Suddenly thought this was real loving one storey of buildings, the feeling suitable, the tone suitable, the suitable one knows the immensity of heaven and earth.

Shorter and shorter in night, or the moon become Yong to be lazy, why like me that sleep, suddenly make and wake up straight? What is thought of while waking up? The hair is still wet, so am I unable to fall asleep? The ticktack of patter of rain outside window, how to call me peaceful sleep? The rain of night, ticktack, pours the wineglass had one's heart filled with, then overflow, in eyes. Already been used to it a bit, used to lying silently at the black night, a certain time, and then forget to listen to the cousin's words talked in the sleep, but write. Continue silence, is sinking Murray and waiting, waits for anything, I do not know either.

Has changed the shampoo, the taste of the hair is different, but why the still straight hang down directly one? Just like time, do not allow at all to roll up, have a rest for a moment. Original time is tired out too. Just no one watches attentively, can make a speech, can only advance, in the shade drawn long, overwrite something, who knows. You, or I?

Just who also wants weariness than time? Turn one's head suddenly, see in the shade not long, the ones that overwrite are all pouring out, one that is with heavy sections of heavy section pale, can't find, can only shelter from into the darkness, hear awarding applauding by oneself.

Whose sake, drunk my eyes? Whose pen and ink, overwrite the wound in autumn? You can not catch, sentimentally attached in or drunk? But remember all the time, who leave to shake the head constantly.

"Go poorly to drop the netherworld greenly, two places all disappear boundlessly and indistinctly. " History even if history, no one has no way of changing, just nowadays, the imperial concubine goes far, not worth flying the swallow dance plate, the confidence on the long life hall, the wing is broken with flying wing to wing too, trees whose branches interlock or join together one rolled over, has become mythologies gradually, has to let the person look up at, yearn for for a long time, but sink and complete long sighing with deep feeling finally, with the travel fatigue, one dies and leaves, does not come back again.

Ones that let people like and hate, are far more than mythologies? A question, as such a lot of people are unable to open one's mouth. What someone explained is clear, not people. Clear answer, cruel angel.

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