-inscription
The rustling cold wind blew from a distance, and the yellow leaves on the trees had already been blown away by the wind, leaving only rows of light-chugging trunks standing in the cold wind.
I would like to be a tree, standing in the cold wind, but I don't want to be shaken at all. Even if the wind blows hard, I will stand firm. No matter how cold it is around, my heart, my boiling blood and my firm soul will not be frozen.
I want to be a tree. No matter the leaves have withered, I still refuse to fall. Even if it snows all over the sky, thousands of miles of ice will firmly grasp this land with its own roots, just for one hope-the arrival of spring.
I would like to be a tree. No matter where I was born, I am trying to absorb nutrients and grow towards the sun. Even if it is dark around me, I will feel the sunshine with my heart.
I would like to be a tree, absorbed in the wind and rain, standing proudly in the cold wind, tempered in the ice and snow, and growing in the years. What's wrong with suffering if you take it lightly? After thousands of difficulties and dangers, I went straight into the sky. No matter what comes, I face it calmly, and I only remember one sentence in my heart: "Only through the tempering of hell can we forge the power to create heaven, and only through blood-stained fingers can we pop up the peerless news like paper."
Maybe the cold wind has scarred me, and I won't say anything, because it's my own choice. I will wait for spring with my life, and it doesn't matter if I am black and blue, just for my dream. Maybe spring blossoms, I won't care, and I won't forget the pain in the cold winter. Years may pass by in a hurry, maybe I can't compete with the cold winter, I will use myself to melt snow, even a snowflake. Maybe my body has fallen, and I will leave my firm soul to welcome spring.
In the firm belief, spring comes quietly, and new buds sprout from the trunk. Green shoots are not the product of spring, but the condensation of faith.