The rain broke my heart and the dream began

The raindrops outside the window fill the heart with sorrow, and that coolness is the expectation of the dream. In the haze, I saw a rainbow, and the beauty was dazzling. Even if there is a million reluctance in the heart, it is necessary to abandon the initial expectations and enjoy a hazy friendship in the rainy scenery.

The crystalline water droplets are the beginning of dreams, the shining light in the eyes, the blue hope. The raindrops hit the window, the 'tick' knocked on my heart, melting the tenderness like water, a pool of dream-like thoughts wrapped the raindrops, turning into flowing water in my heart, and the fluttering dream was a piece of hope.

In this piece of dream, it left a trace, it is like the expectation in the heart, let people nostalgic for the beauty. The dream is persistent, the dream is full of joy. It's a joyous gathering, infusing hope, thoughts wafting in the eyes.

The people who rushed to the feast quietly left a series of footprints to guide the dream. The dream left a hint of coldness at the fingertips. As desolate as a dream, as enchanting as a picture.

In this most beautiful season, the smiling faces of a group of children, full of hope, like the rising sun, are easy to addictive and fascinated by its warmth.

It is a dependence that cannot be quit, deeply rooted in the heart, and then blossoms and bears fruit, sprinkling its waiting on the heart field. The picturesque season is less anticipated, the kind of addictive mid-term taste that creeps into your nose and deeply tastes this intoxicating heart.

A fragrance remains in the heart, like honey, painting the future on the tip of the heart. It always comes quietly and quietly leaves, leaving a sense of anticipation in the heart, and in the middle of the night, it tears the heart and lungs, that kind of warmth, that persistence.

The child's smiling face is filled with innocent hope, so clear, like water washing away the soul. Holding a joy, stepping on the fragrance of flowers, swimming in the sunshine, running in the ocean of dreams with warmth, cool hope, washed away the turbidity of the world. A quiet dream rippled in my heart.

A dream that remains in the heart, so real, a trace of watery expectation, the cold left behind, is so powerless in the heart. The thoughts that crossed the cheeks and danced in the heart, and the beauty was preserved in the heart and imprinted in the eyes.

It is a touch of color, a tear in the eyes, the tears are colorless to see through the camouflage of the human heart, and the taste of tears is still floating in the air. Twist a attachment, sprinkle in the heart, flying down is a touch of thought. Slipping down in the hand, is the soft hope, at sunrise on the seashore, it is so intoxicating, the dream of the heart, flowing at the fingertips. The first anticipation rippled through my heart.

A sweet attachment that flows through the eyebrows. What a kind of anticipation, instantly brightened the eyes, shining with that warmth. Attachment in the heart, that is the expectation of raindrops, is the gift of the sky. The dripping water always carries a hint of sadness. The faint color, with the traces of being washed away, the soul that had been washed away, was so pure, without a trace of impurity.

A trace of cold that slipped down the top of the eyebrow shattered the dream in my heart, and the cold wrapped around my heart, and the warmth was suddenly empty, and I reached out my hand but didn't catch anything. There is a kind of distance between the end of the world, obviously in front of you, but you can't catch it, why is it so fragile. Can't stand the slightest bit of hurt. He was like a dream, she was like water.

-Author-

Pen name: Murong Beiran, quietly enjoying the tranquility of the juanjuan stream and the breeze in the green mountains and white clouds. Find your own piece of breadth in the ocean of words, wander tirelessly in the vast world, and enjoy yourself.

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