good work good life

It is a piece of insomnia person that worries  
The character that she strikes out with the forefinger blocks the crossing at night
The luxuriant branch and leaf in the nerve, become numerous and disorderly, unreal
She probably ties in the network of bright eyes, performs a inexorable doom
Use the sharp intonation, wear down her life

She has pure white arm, stretches to the winter of few snow
Hold the stone, wipe the juice appearing like the planetesimal
Stranded on the very thirsty yellow land
Sincere a river bend is regarded her as alienly

She is spoilt the beautiful cheek, stand upright in a peach garden of the South
If one pile of shadows which a certain light takes out, step aside
The petal is ice-cold
Pattern is beautiful and dense

Hillock, green shadow of enormous cloud, make, appear more
A layer of beautiful outer covers in name only, come off in the twinkling of an eye
Handed over pain paid in advance and suffered from insomnia at night at the same time
With actual people's honorarium

Reinvent, seem to overflow the careless writing
Her pale figer tip, go to embrace the singers of the warm blood
Obscure, have stroked her poetic prose and poured into the life of the lifelike shade
How much balance of literature is plentiful - -
The wide open poem person's soul, with abiding by sincerely
Know how or no

Waited once, a shiny green branch, at last
It is mere to inject reticent silver, a kind of beauty comes in the network
On the piton hanging on the white wall getting rusty

A block of plum blossoms garden is opened towards a late snow, fragrant
The course of letting once talk is slightly an apparent a silk life
May well ask, open youthful new dreams of people
She drips the ashamed tear under a tree 

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