Rambling before sleep
A person quietly enjoys the taste of solitude on a night when many people are asleep, feeling a lot of loneliness in their heart. Looking at the sky, perhaps a meteor streaks across, and if I miss it, it feels like a regret that constantly lingers in my chest. Can things that were once lost be regained? What caused my pure heart to start being tainted, and why has someone like me, who has always been low-key, started to become arrogant? When I realized it, I found that returning to the person I used to be is a very difficult thing. In my real life, does anyone truly understand me? Even if there are people who do, is it because I am unwilling to talk to them? Or have I already started to deviate from a normal life path? Night makes people think a lot because it is easy to get lost in the night, and I am already lost. The faint moonlight guides how I should walk underfoot, but in the end, the help I get is very helpless. The lonely arms hug me tightly again, and gradually I feel the long night is very cold, but I have no choice but to hug myself to give myself a little warmth. Perhaps that's it! Writing a short piece on a quiet night is the only way to express my feelings. A quiet night, a peaceful little village, and occasionally the low croak of frogs from the lake — and am I not the same?
