The sunset is bloody and beautiful, and the broken pictures can't collage a better future. I wander alone on this deep road, waiting for the shelter of the night. I fell down like a meteor, and the lonely thick mist enveloped my body. My heart is spreading like wild grass in the wilderness. My sentimentality, like the moss after the rain, is slippery and sticky, and I can't get rid of it. . . . .
Let loneliness bloom in the night song, and let the lingering sadness in Ye Hua. I cried in the drunkenness, just for the beauty that no longer bloomed in my heart. I walked on the edge of the desert and couldn't find a clear spring. The wild sand of the sky blows on the dry land and devours everything. The dead heart no longer needs to be admired, and I tell my own barrenness and absurdity in the cemetery. I can't find the center of the desert, I don't remember those times when I look back at the wind. The loneliness left in the corner slowly eroded my no longer strong heart, slowly expanding the saltiness of tears. I have turned around gorgeously many times, but today I fell into the abyss of my own design and can no longer look back.
There is no longer an oasis. My delusion of confusion ends in the early morning when nothing has started. Everything is in vain and nothing. I am exiling my heart, but wandering has become a kind of imprisonment. The shadows scattered in the shadow, is that me? Wandering tonight, like a lonely ghost. . . . . .