Aaron Archer

Grasp that a barren

Grasp that a barren, quietly dragged away the time, lonely autumn had a struggle, and finally lost to the winter, the distant yellow fields, meet the cold, inadvertently has white hair, the white frost on the field everywhere, can not brush the dust of the years, but took away the field only warm, frozen its fragile heart. The winter sun is warm, and the golden light is scattered, but it is only the scenery in the eyes of others, you and I, passers-by in the world, hurry to come, hurry to leave, perhaps inadvertently leaving your footprints, but it only belongs to the dream, never belongs to you. How many times to search, look back, lost time, just to find the dream, this kind of illusory things. However, no one looked back, so, the mistake has been walking, until the end of the end to give up. The wind never roars, it just moves where it goes. The scenery can be seen, the sound is actually the laughter of the wind. Of course, look at different, there is a different world, in everyone's eyes, that is the wind, always in the winter with a knife, tease your face, provoke you, until you angry. Maybe, in their world, it's just games, a way of being friendly. Don't care too much about these complicated things, how life bullies you, you don't know, why care about whether the wind is expressing friendship? Leaves withered, bustling passers-by, never picked up the autumn scene. The soil may be the best place for fallen leaves to return to their roots. No wind, no sunshine, an autumn picture, from the countryside to the city, came a beautiful encounter, but also created a barren.