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http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/0b7c5d99855d091e699f4b2daf840adb.mp3
点击复制The years are folded manuscripts
with letters never sent
Some words are faint some ink still burns
in hearts that won’t repent
The wind unfolds a corner’s curl
revealing scent of yesterdays
I cannot throw those pages out
for every line still prays
Fate is a patient editor
revising how we live
The words once crossed remain alive —
their silence still forgives
So I close the worn-out book
and let the pages rest
For what’s unfinished often stays
and ends up written best