闲来没事...回想过去
You breathe stiffly , no longer fear that is wounded by evilness, no longer worried for abyss, the burning body was free at last. Life, as one being land that made by meticulous glass, so apt to is it that it was broken into pieces to step on by crude and impetuous ox. The body of you burn after killing, wings were pushed down by the soul, receive freedom now.
But is it the journey that lead to the paradise ? You've died, we stand in silent to tribute for you, prepare the coffin , grave for you, present a bunch of oriental cherries that you dote on for you!
You like the honor that thousand of people bow their's head , tranquility of night before death , but they have not slept with you together ; Lost sheep of your misfortune! You have died, a sheep without soul ,which has already been engulfed by maggot's worm.
What do you still need? Your pulse is in charge of , connect into the withered bark , can not enter the generous gift that the world prepares for you again ----- Life, that one luxurious piece inside of it, a luxurious pronoun,there are flower 、 grass and Land of Peach Blossoms.
Flying--
to the paradise--
