not new, poetry and words

lie

At the end of the lone lamp and the crossbow, he dominates the dung of the people. Knowing the same brother and brother, the smoke of gunpowder scatters the head, blood, ears, eyes, dazed body, broken limbs, scattered in the hometown, where are the wives and children?

floral dress

I have never seen the blood of the Kuroshio come rushing up, greedy for pleasure

It's just that there is no seat, how can I be happy, Otaru is empty, and I am robbed in the sky, how can I pass the ten thousand words, and I can't get rid of it again, and I can't be stained with red, but I have to wipe it three hundred times in an instant.

Junyi Moya is like a gentleman, and a gentleman is like a gentleman. A meeting with the king invites you to stay with you until the ochre red can be satisfied, regardless of the indigo blue.

In ancient times, the high powers were all lonely, only the sages were full of their desires, and now they can drink ten thousand mouths and a thousand cups to show their sorrow

Ask you what is the root of the same origin and a shallow product

"Floral Clothes" borrows the background in the writing style of the new sexy magazines , puts on the shape of Li Bai's "Wine into the Wine", and finally puts it into my point of view.

Written at the beginning of the war.
Simultaneously published in "Treehouse on the Wall": https://treehouse-of-wall.com/writing/poetry/the-war/