Works
lit. washing his sword over the glacier
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Categories: knight-errant
Statuses: Updating
The snail's corner of the floating life in exchange, disappointed in the years of dust and horse tracks, the end of the world to look at the broken. The cold crows in the green mound have not yet cried, and it is hard to get rid of this feeling. There is also the old companion of the secret chamber, the same hatred of death and separation, the dream soul is shocked, as if hearing the low call. Tears drop on the pillow of the ducks. The deep love negative all the long left grudges, this life destiny, mirror flowers and water and moon, all become empty fantasy. I'm going to play the sword and sing wildly at the end of the plug, the sea of clouds and people are far away, pulling the glacier to wash the dust mess. The past is like the passing water, the later should be as the heart wishes. I wish you all the best. --The Golden Witch Hazel