45 ° angle at the sky-

night , gray , such as silver, reveals a light sprinkle on the branches , very quiet , and very heavy. Parting of friends , always some touch of sadness . I often dwell on the past time , past the past, those people , those things , a touch , a misunderstanding. My thoughts continue to drift over the past years , those bits of the past , we will never forget the heart. Because there is the figure we have in our footsteps . Perhaps the previous life of the agreement, have met in this life . Memories of the Past , brotherly love between us the best assurance .

some gentle at this age would not heal wounds , and always eager to get something , but they lose more , like a child without a home , wandering between hope and despair . The mirror began to cry laugh at the world . Inviting those unclear on the relationship . Perhaps the confusion of life, is fast approaching , and even , has been with me.

I always thought that an ordinary person should be shaping the destiny of others , in that sort of a small description of their chronological story. But I always put the final pull to the individual characters themselves, so , you'd write about themselves, a pretentious but ordinary girls were born in death .

I remember

House to you in heaven I hope

slightly as you gaze upon me sad

I looked up to you at the Jiuquan

As you stand in the wilderness

above

you ever look up to the ideal of holiness

one day I'll be back

will we be shining bright

time

then tell you

I have found heaven

which there is a bright blue , the Holy

Gradually, I used to One position , 45 ° angle of looking at the sky , silently watching , this rebellion was peaceful world