I thought we were, but the fact is that you have been longing to leave me and dare not tell me in that precious night. Looking at the lake, you said in a trance: _our story is about to end "Rain is killing the last few days of summer, you have been killing my last breath of love, because a long time ago I still didn't think I could cross another love story, you took it away from me, I knew I would be a forgotten person, but I was still gazing at the lake, vaguely aware that I knew my life was coming to an end and these things would never be The death of Charles Dickens, the kind of youth that inspired purity, light, beauty, the impulse to pray without words, the dream of love and truth, the longing for what is lost, the longing for the spirit, cry for a better hope that these things will never die. That timid hand reaches out to help a brother in need, in the dark time of sorrow, this A good word proves a friend's plea for mercy, a regretful heart, and sorrow when justice is near.
Don't lose the opportunity to wake up love. Be firm, just, and true. A beam of indelible light shines on you from above.
