That poem:

"The Lonely Moon"

I have a lonely heart without a moon, and I am alone and lonely.

The empty mountain has not finished speaking, and I have been talking for a long time.

...

That story:

Do you know?

When people are lonely for a long time, they will gradually become weaker.

Just like the man who lived in the empty mountain for a long time, when he first came here, he felt that the flowers were beautiful, the clouds were beautiful, and the water was clear... Even the grass everywhere was so handsome. It had no worldly worries at all, it was his dream home, and the peach blossom land that looked away.

He sniffed the fragrance and said to the flowers, "You are so beautiful." The ink color dyed black and burned, just like that.

He raised his head, the clouds were light and the wind was light. It was great that the clouds were so chic and elegant.

He picked up the stream and tasted it. It was so sweet. He had never tasted such a sweet taste. It was sweet until he trembled all over, probably because he was poisoned by some kind of beautiful poison.

He lay on the grass, pulled out a core of grass and chewed it in his mouth, which made him feel a different feeling.

Even the ants and insects crawling on the grass felt very cute and could not bear to trample on them. They walked around carefully, fearing that they would disturb their world.

In those days, there were always endless things to say and endless scenery to see.

Talk to the green mountains and clear waters and make the stars and moon home.

...

Time is the most ruthless quicksand. Once it flows away, it will never be found again.

The lonely moon in the empty mountains is clear and lonely, and only the clouds and water are seen.

He gradually...didn't talk anymore. He didn't say good morning to the young flowers when he woke up in the morning, and he didn't lie on the grass to look at the stars when he went to bed.

It seems a little cold, it's time to add clothes.

...

He still loves this flower, this cloud, this water... he just feels a little cold.

Suddenly I remembered what someone said and was stunned.

A pink petal floated past his cheek and fell to the ground. He picked it up gently, put it in the palm of his hand, and smiled.

After all, he is still unavoidable. It is a good place to be alone, but he is a little lonely.

But when I saw the petals floating in, I felt that it was pretty good.

real.

...

No one responded to your actions, and gradually, he forgot how to respond to the world.

The mountains are a little cold, and the petals are not found every day.
Chapter completed!