亲爱的                                                               在我的心尖为你别上一枚诀别书。          哦，绝不是我想写的                                       要知道，                                                         我的心不知道被什么风丢在了路上                  它的燃烧已渐渐冷去                                      似乎失去了意义。                                         转眼之间，                                                           你之于我                                                          就如湖畔上凝结的一颗冰心。                      像如今你的眼，                                              带上了锋芒毕露的寒。                                  这首比羽毛还轻的诗，                                 比孤本还孤的诗，                                          呼之欲出而又咽下。                                         诀 别书，                                                          我决不愿，                                                      它从你的嘴里溢出。                                     因为伤悲是独宠我的孤独