How does the autumn wind and autumn wind the fan, a sad pain for whom?
An old teardrop in the autumn, facing the lonely leaves of the fallen leaves service apartments. A final tear fell into the dust and lost in the dust.
This, the last drop of tears, condensed the how much the engraved on the heart, how many perfect witness stories, bearing much my persistence and waiting for you, in the autumn wind kicked up at the moment of no is shattered and gone.
Even the autumn of ten million wandering children, did not leave a pity for me in the eyes hong kong wine school, rush to run, impact my haggard empty shell. A figure that is abandoned by you, forgotten by years, wandering in the autumn wind, drifting in the dazzling osmanthus fragrance, melodious in the fall chrysanthemum, the fall curtain in the dead memory.
My world is falling apart at the moment. I was helpless, walking alone in the dark and ignorant cliffs of the bridge, but not knowing the next step, it was possible to be shattered.
From now on, there is no such a person in the world, can tear my heart, let my tears in the heart of pain, like the death of heartbreak. I don't care about you, I don't care about you, a heart already with the last drop of tears in the fall of death master of marketing hong kong.
Once, for you, I spelt the last sweat of youth, unscrupulously spilled all the vitality of life. Now, for you, I still choose the last tear of my life, bury our fleeting love, comfort me countless days and nights, in the dream bodhi tree under the bitter cry. In the future, I have no feelings, but still rolling in the dust, in my little black room only you leave my only -- wrinkles.
Even the tears have dried up, and I have only the wrinkles that I have added every day. Climb up the corner of the eye, be full of forehead, scattered in every corner, every one is so deep, deeply engraved on the face of the years, engraved on every tomorrow that has not you.
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