Beddinginn simple reviews

Everyone heart, hides a secret garden.There, accumulate the numerous flowers unknown.The wind to blow gently, state of mind then ripples;The sun warm shed and expression of natural and unrestrained.All life is a dream, which was surrounded by a great care under the blue sky white clouds, in thought of boats, fly freely in the sea.
Paper flowers, lonely, heart will be dry, fall, along with the shadow is filled with emptiness.Dry sea breeze, blow the sailing before carefully combed hair;Thin sand, misty, her eyes, and all over the reef, AIDS to navigation become blurred, seems to be blocked heart of hope.Vast sky, encroaching thoughts, crumpled the heart find irrelevant, make you can't be calm.Drunk and lost, fear and down and out, in a trance of shoulder, isolated thinking of you and the outside world and yourself, only the lonely in tapping the morning bell and evening drum reminders, slowly, slowly...Morning, then become unreal, night become brinkmanship, huhu faint and far away, in the heart but leave the flowers from wandering water their traces.
Bored, in the heart of the flower into a plastic flower, will be lost, will be thin, weak full of helpless in their bones.Beautiful melody has become mixed monring winds sparse, ear, can't recall the sweet memories;The patter se se, vague thoughts know who in the chanting, repetitive monotonous, with the surroundings seem to form a sharp contrast;Jackals cry sadness, is so unpredictable.People also with far better than the shadow of failure.Is "a kind of acacia, two place idle sorrow. This no plan can eliminate, just the eyebrows, but in my heart."
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