Text/Author Old That
There is a kind of loss
Cry out to the heart,
There is a kind of letting go,
Calling you happiness,
There is a kind of pain,
Watching you enjoy it.
Choose a kind of love,
Swallow all the bitterness,
Choose a kind of affection,
Bury the fruit of love.
There is no wise man in love,
It doesn't matter when you're emotional,
Do you know that there is also a feeling,
It's called giving and giving,
Can you know the fruit you have buried,
How deep the roots hurt.
Waiting with pain,
In exchange for a kind called,
Let go give you happiness,
Hand-delivered gifts,
Will you be happy?
Obsessed in the whirlpool of feelings,
Entangled in love mixed with complex feelings,
It's not a kind of waiting,
What a pain,
Pain over entanglement,
Finally love becomes distorted.
Still falling in a dream,
Eventually, it's going to fall into a kind called,
In the language of love.
It's a persistent waiting.
A kind of freedom to let go for love,
A heart-rending pain,
A fruit planted in the heart.
The hatred at this moment has long been useless,
There is only one option in blame,
That's in your heart,
The deepest choice.
Ask yourself,
This love,
What results are left in the end
Which one to choose?