cherry blossoms open

Flowers are like snow, burning the desolate spring's sick sentences are all chosen by it We can ignore all the sounds and listen to the flower language under a tree

The wind engulfs the memory, and the things that can be remembered are floated

Quiet things are growing, and we can tacitly open ourselves

The dream of flowers, flowing to the blood

Go to those soft corner lottery, there is no winning or losing in life, there is only a deeper trajectory, the motherland of a flower

Holy every hour, you and I hold the flame of love in our hearts

love it like we love ourselves

Flowers in the wind, lamps of branches and leaves

The dark night retreats to the heart, the river walks with destiny, we accept the light, and the life rituals mentioned are all in those dazzling lights

With the category of the song or without the category