At one o’clock in the dead
My eyes wide open
I’m afraid to miss a trace of darkness
I am sober because I am numb
I know it can read my heart
Lend me a tear
Fulfill my cowardice


“Actually, the difference is not so terrible.
After 650,000 hours, when we oxidize into the wind
Can become two adjacent bubbles on the same glass of beer
Can become two snuggling dust under the same street lamp
Atomic wells in the universe will not be annihilated
And we will eventually be together. “

Loneliness and boredom

Loneliness is a worthy soul to be understood but not available. It is tragic. Boredom is an unavailable soul that is not available for seeking pastime. It is comic. Loneliness is to seek ordinary human warmth but not available, it is neutral. However, people often confuse them, even posing as loneliness with boredom …
“I’m lonely.” Ah, are you worthy?

A Great Awakening is Coming

In 1986 David Wilkerson gave Mike Evans an incredible prophecy: “I see a plague coming on the world, and the bars and churches and government will shut down. The plague will hit New York City and shake it like it has never been shaken. The plague is going to force prayerless Believers into radical prayer and into their Bibles, and repentance will be the cry from the man of God in the pulpit. And out of it will come a third Great Awakening that will sweep America and the world.” In A Great Awakening Is Coming, Dr. Evans shares how God is working to stir revival in the hearts of people during a time of struggle. Sharing Scripture, inspirational stories, and accounts of awakening throughout history, he offers hope that the Lord has not left us, but is preparing us for a coming Great Awakening.


Hold hands

In silence, the palms formed into mountains and sweat into valleys.
Winding uphill, I am a horse tethered to your wooden house.
Where the moon is dry and the horses are docile
A five hundred year old rose
Fold into two moonlights after exposure
Sprinkle on me

Politely executed

Tell me a poem
If you say you love life like you love me
That is undoubtedly a lie
I’m walking down your pale skin under your blood vessels
Coaxing you that everything will be fine
Tell me goodbye
As the only survivor in the accident
You insist you are the winner
A winner
You always have such a terrible roulette heart
Shallow and weak breathing in the sun
You hurt yourself with a sharp knife
I will get everything I want
You shout
And think that he is omnipotent
Tell me a wish
Not an expected answer
This eagerness should not be called love

about me

My body dissolves in the rain
Leaving only a fiery heart
The heart closes its eyes
Don’t look at the blurry world
Human beings are mainly composed of two parts:
Unnecessary things and meaningless things
There are even people who pray to God
Give him a pair of wings
God waved his hand for a while
Rain divided into two parts


He wanted to roar, something stuck in his throat
Entangled with flesh and blood
He had to vomit often, as a polite reply

Cowardly, it finally turned into a pool of water, invading the yellow land
I guess I am a fish soaked, or not

His look dimmed with the flow of time
The taboo stuck in the throat emits a foul smell

He tells lies every day
From morning to noon, from noon to night

He used husky to build a dream for me
For me to find in the rotten flower

Looking for his remaining track, everything that could not be caught was drained away
Weak breathing left: “Do n’t be deceived by me,
Don’t be deceived by me. “

Becoming the past

Autumn says goodbye to the season with fallen leaves
How do I say goodbye to the past
And sadness in a painful city
Walk along the other side of the sun
Forgot you are still at the end of time

No one looked at me
Read yesterday’s hope
Is becoming an affair, never
In this season of illness
A person, with deep and shallow memories
Passing the dawn quietly

Maybe I should believe,
It was just a grain of sand blown into my eyes by the wind
Become the wettest part of my body
Maybe, just every moment I pass by
As soon as I turn around, I will see you beside me
You believe my fairy tale about poetry and love
Looking at Huang Chun hanging on the treetop