Moist memory

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Now the time downs the end of a day,

And all myself is surrounded by the damp air,

with a bit chilly and like fog in someway ,

Silence is now a precious settlement,

But not eternal,

Like a wanderer get lost in a wild forest.

The night comes,darkness comes,

They'll swallow all this ,

Good or bad,Happy or unhappy,

People call this is the part of a day,

A day has its end,that's certain,

I've long known that.

The mournful sound also comes,

Not far away ,

just near to my ear,clings to my heart,

Like fresh mosses cover the old trees,

from the bottom to the top.

These sudden memory make me speechless ,

Hard to breath,can't sense,

All I can do is looking back on the vague happiness,

and waiting,waiting,

Both endlessly and despairingly,

"Love is short,but forgetting is long."