Silence is an old word,
Because of my love, I have always held it in my hand.
When spring comes, the silence will be dyed red;
As summer fades, the silence is soaked in some greenery;
When the autumn breeze rises, the silence will flow affectionately;
The snow fell, deepening the degree of silence, and Jing had a plain white meaning.
At this time, it is autumn, and the wind and frost are still on the way to come.
I sat in silence, waiting for an inevitable plunder, wanting to send away the sorrow that was attached.
The rusty door knocker patina cannot lock the passage of time, and the moss on the low wall also bears the wind and rain. The story will eventually be old, like raindrops under the eaves, and sooner or later the steps under the eaves will be hollowed out.
And in all this long time, there is a shadow of silence.
I am a silent person, not good at words.
With his left hand in his sleeve and his right hand in his pen, he wrote his shallow thoughts on a piece of paper.
When the moonlit night is deeper, I will take out a piece of paper and read it,
Read it, teary-eyed. Read two sentences and feel sad. Keep reading, the tears are dry, and all the moods go to sleep.
So, I idly knocked on the chess pieces, waiting for the moon to set, waiting for the autumn silence, waiting for myself to forget everything in the silence.
#Brilliant Flower Creation Challenge# #秋韵小诗分享#
