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Good poem of the day|There is no blood-colored night, and the air polishes the memory

author:Read to sleep
Good poem of the day|There is no blood-colored night, and the air polishes the memory
Good poem of the day|There is no blood-colored night, and the air polishes the memory

dream

He broke free from the mantra of dreams

But it was still dark all around.

Nothingness devours silence,

It's like an autumn rat tooth biting rust.

There is no bloody night

The air polishes the memory,

Polished the vicissitudes of life

Every wrinkle. heartbeat

Like the flower of thought,

It is like an orderly hourglass

Witness the time.

And the ID card is clamped

fragments of fallen leaves,

It seems to hide the pathos of the whole autumn

Twilight exit, life

Always searched by invalid shade of light.

That's almost non-existent

It's not a dream,

It's a stream that doesn't land

Waves-

mood

The days go by, the more overwhelmed I become

After three meals, time

The scarlet sorrow lingers, and it will be difficult to endure in the end

The pain of clinging.

the presence of cold and heat,

Instigating colored eyes to get to the bottom of it.

Longing, like a tiger's groan

Highlight the law of the jungle.

Love in the world

Start drawing the ground as a dungeon.

The shadow of the dream floats out of the night,

Maybe a song with tears

I shouldn't have sung the sad sound of loss anymore.

The rain was drenched

The path of life.

In the dark, flies buzz

The barrier it won't break through,

Blocking the world's cognition

The eyes of the eyes -

reverent

Forget me,

When you push open the window

The wind poured into the cold and loneliness in vain.

The widow's face was cold

Mood -

Our temples

Frost begins. The lights of the market

Disgust generally illuminates me-

Numb expectations.

哦,落叶

How will fallen leaves understand

Tears in the corners of your eyes.

Come in! It's freezing outside

But the flowers will not be far away

Indefinite.

When the buds of the lily

Bloom spring thunder, dear

You see, the one who runs in the rain

It's still you who are religious

Footsteps -

Author: Ye Xiaosong, born in 1964, screen name, Prometheus (fire thief), columnist of the Reading Sleep Poetry Society, poetry writing enthusiast. Some of the poems are included in "Reading Sleep Poems: Spring Blossoms" and "Reading Sleep Poems: The Grass Grows and the Warbler Flies". The language of poetry is unique, the poetry is agile, and he is good at digging out the poetic soil and building the castle of poetry from the silhouette of life. Poetry has its own unique meaning and specialness, and has a certain degree of recognition.

Image: Photo by Reading Sleep Poet

Good poem of the day|There is no blood-colored night, and the air polishes the memory

Face the sea and look for the light with your black eyes. Founded on November 16, 2015, the Poetry Club takes "speaking for grassroots poets" as its mission and promoting the "spirit of poetry" as its purpose, that is, the pursuit of truth, goodness and beauty of poetry, the artistic innovation of poetry, the spiritual pleasure of poetry, and the revelation of poetry to living life. He has published a collection of poems co-authored by poets, "Reading Selected Sleep Poems: Spring Warm Flowers" and "Reading Sleep Selected Poems: The Grass Grows and the Warbler Flies". Poetry friends have been working hard, the poetry club is forging ahead, constantly innovating, recommending excellent poems, producing high-quality poetry collections, reciting excellent works, recommending poets' works in various forms, so that more people can read excellent works and appreciate poetry culture, we are on the move!