年少的我们,眉宇间透露出早熟的气息,是叛逆,是不屑?是戏谑,是虚伪?褪去那层伪装的面容,我们还剩下什么呢?痛,伤,抑或是道不尽的悲怆。寒风中,倚靠在窗栏边,这是今年的第一场雪,同时也是最后一场雪。风,肆虐地刮着,吹乱了整缕黑发,吹乱了整个世界。雨雪交杂着,缓缓地飘落下来,零零散散的,模模 Young, we reveal a precocious atmosphere between the brow, is rebellious, disdain? Is banter, is hypocrisy? Fade the layer disguised face, what are we left? Pain, hurt, or endless tragedy. Cold wind, leaning against the window bar, this is the first snow of this year, but also the last snow. Wind, raging wiped out, blew the whole bunch of dark hair, blowing the entire world. Mixed snow and rain, slowly falling, fragmented, mold