[Love] Tonight I pick up the pen again to write a poem for you

Fate brings people together and separates them, love runs deep. Only at the moment you turned away did I realize how utterly foolish my decision was. The most painful thing in the world is having the opportunity right in front of you but not seizing it. Though the journey of life is short, it is filled with eternal solitude.\ This time, you have truly left me, left forever—it's the gloom of rain, the illusion of wind, the slenderness of the moon, the quiet of night. You waved and left, leaving behind a faint fragrance, loneliness, emptiness, helplessness, and sorrow multiplying together.\ Longing becomes grime, clogging my veins, my heart cannot beat normally, my hands are so numb they cannot play the moonlight of those years, my hoarse voice can only sing the song 'Come back soon, life is wonderful because of you,' tears flowing. The flowers bloom with cold intent, the tender leaves are sparse, and the sound of migratory birds flying is heard. A misty rain cannot bring back your departure, the lantern light on the desk disturbs my heart, night after night in longing.\ A few red beans boiled to express longing, dreams return to the cold misty rain, 'Steal three portions of the pear blossom's white, borrow a strand of soul from the plum blossom.' The bright moonlight fills the windowsill; writing deep into the night, there is always endless language that cannot be fully expressed. Do not say it doesn't wail the soul; when love reaches its peak, the moon is complete. My cowardice back then leaves me with lifelong regret, watching you slip away from me, with no courage to hold you back. I thought time could fade everything, thought burning your photo could destroy my love for you, thought drawing the curtains could block the moonlight, thought being surrounded by flowers could mask your faint fragrance. Time has not diluted the ocean of my heart, just like a river of spring water flowing east as always, clouds imagine clothes, flowers imagine beauty.\ It seems like the fate of past lives, revolving through countless turns in this life, led me to meet you, to fall in love with you, yet fate's path caused us to brush past each other, missing our chance. When fate ends and destiny parts, flowers fall unpredictably; a poem, a line of verse, thousands of rivers and mountains, a lifetime without connection, even dreams are true.\ You have gone, love has gone; I am like a small boat that has lost its course in the sea, drifting aimlessly with no fixed direction. Where the white clouds drift, there are dreams. The winds of time attempt to blow away longing, to let tranquility reside in a tired heart, to make memories fade, to begin a new journey. The full moon gathers threads of clouds, forming a trickling water melody, nurturing love, the gentle clouds embracing the empty sky.\ Bees hover and circle over the flowers, buzzing noisily;Butterflies fly back and forth, fluttering their colorful wings this spring, dancing gracefully, touching the frozen snow, old smoke rises again, and the roads become clear again. Love has gone and cannot be found, intoxicated with coming and going, one can only be lost again. Tonight I take up the pen to write poetry for you, no longer sorrowful, only to add a touch of color to the love that once was, and to make a mark.\ The Bodhi tree is originally without a tree, the bright mirror is not a stand, originally there is nothing, where can dust arise? Shake off the dust on your body, sweep away the gloom, return to dust. The web of love you carefully wove can no longer stop the steps of my life; I run into the rain, waving my hand without angrily pointing at the sky or cursing the world. Red leaves fall one by one, leaf by leaf, taking up the pen no longer to nostalgically lament youth's fleetingness, the moon's waxing and waning, or the sorrow and joy of separations no longer brings silent tears.\ Tonight I take up the pen to write poetry, not to make you smile, but to add a light to that journey in life, so that when my teeth have all fallen out, I can sit in a rocking chair and tell the children the most romantic stories.\ Fate is like a book; if you turn the pages carelessly you might miss something, if you read too seriously, tears may flow. Some scars are drawn on the hands; once healed, they become the past. Some people, close within reach, are destined to have no connection for a lifetime. No matter how wonderful a movie is, watching it several times will still lead to boredom. Only true love is eternal and unchanged. Tonight I take up the pen again, no longer shedding tears for longing, only to let true love remain forever in the heart.\ The evening glow is thick, adding a touch of mysterious charm to the mountains and rivers. Love has given me joy, and also trouble. Life is a mix of joy and trouble, the combination of smiles and tears. Tonight I take up the pen to write poetry for you, no longer troubled, no longer in tears; worries are blown away by the wind, tears washed away by the rain, leaving behind joy and smiles. Joyful love, smiling in life, together begin the wild dance of living in dreams: the arrival of spring, the passion of summer, the maturity of autumn, and the serenity of winter.\ Tonight I take up the pen again for you, not to cheer for forgetting love, but to forget troubles in order to cheer for love.