Autumn, the leaves are blowing

Autumn sky, loose and desolate notes, floating in the lonely years, confided fun time, it is our best life color, through the storm of dust formation test, to encroach on the number of past and beautiful Love.  Bright moments through the eyes of memory, rambling story in every corner of the mind, to show off the beautiful light,.Instant, like a dream come true, beyond the bustling streets, spreading the years a breath.  This atmosphere, I do not know whether there is, perhaps when the dream awake, will understand that once time, also recalled those years of past events and people.I do not know, flavor blossom fantasy light, lonely in my mind whether it will be comforted, like a prairie quiet night.  Memory notes convey the lonely songs, a song cycle than the past.I still like the beautiful prairie, the grasslands look past white clouds and flocks, when after reading it will feel very confused, vulnerable, like misty own like dandelion uncertain, any time will be taken away by the wind past.  Repeating every day the same lifestyle, have long been thought to escape the reality of darkness, helplessness and frustration of life, so that memory grew weaker and weaker, so that the face of growing old.Wanted to return to that carefree childhood, then in the carefree atmosphere, let it blossom into reality style, even for a moment, also satisfied.  Those who really want to have a good time with friends years, although the memories flooded the years, but never miss a breath stopped before.Although the time of the Mask can not go back past the scene, but I really want you.  Falling leaves, across the cheeks years, remembered once encounter and missed, missed and forgotten, forgotten and recalled very contradictory, and our life is so unlikely to repeat the cycle, I do not know how many years, remains the same.  In fact, we all know, for whom reality never change, is to make a living and run around the horizon, watching the seasons continue to change, the rising sun, the flowers bloom Xie, we seem to have forgotten their own, can not find in traces of the past.  When the merciless time will be submerged memories that will accelerate forget also, that everything familiar behind us in the years of the wind, how many people are looking for, but also brought back in, the wind was blowing dust and memories, instant blinded eyes years.  Dream hard to find, indulge in their own story, dialogue with the past years, how many people think of the story, only sigh Meng dream hard to find, just a waste to miss it overwhelmed.  Autumn fruit buds for spring, it is a kind of perfection, and autumn leaves for the fragrance of spring, but it is an end.  Autumn, the leaves are blowing, the Red dream, past and how many.  Original QQ: 1781157018