One Thought, a Mortal Life · Above and Below, All Connected · 82 / 102
· For the Fallen
Gazing up at the sky, past all hope; camels and horses go down, the sun burns and scorches. A hand on the —the player not yet old; a vulture shrieks its grief. Crimson sand rolls and heaves; tears on the fragrant lapel; a cry in the accent of home.
Glosses—
Crimson sand: the sea of sand dyed red with blood;
Fragrant lapel: a robe-front sweet as orchid.
*This is an original work. If you reprint it, please credit the original author Shixi Lin; any infringement, once discovered, will be pursued for legal liability. In addition, the accompanying image comes from the internet and belongs to the original illustrator Huanhuan Xiaomimi.