800-word composition, the topic is mother

Before time stood still, in the pure white moonlight, a woman in a black robe, with her hands folded, slowly bowed to the midnight moon. ...

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I counted my mother's white hair with a bleeding heart,

I use bones without flesh and blood to experience my mother's hard work.

I stroked my mother's wrinkles with my daughter's broken arm,

I sing the praises of maternal love in a voice that can't produce any timbre.

I feel the smell of my mother with my nose that can't smell anything.

I bowed to the midnight moon with tears in my eyes and prayed for my mother. ...

Pray for mom's safety, health and happiness. ...

My parents-my mother, are all covered with skin. Please forgive me for using such cruel words to describe myself, because I don't think gentle words can express my daughter's solemn feelings for you.

In my daughter's little world, you are everything to her. With you, my daughter is not afraid of storms, dark nights, and a crumbling world!

Mom, mom! Please forgive my daughter's reticence and can't tell you how much I love you. My daughter is not slow, and she doesn't love you. It's just that her daughter thinks that the sky is not as beautiful as you, the sun in the sky is not as dazzling as you, and the flowers on the ground are not as beautiful as you! You hold up your daughter's world with an ordinary woman's hand-such an ordinary, wrinkled hand! !

Mom, in my daughter's heart, you are the most beautiful in the world. You are beautiful, kind, generous, gentle and considerate, but you gave me your flower-like years! You know, my daughter is not ready to think about her life! Your kindness can't be repaid by your daughter for three generations and four generations! My daughter is willing to be your slave in 10 1 century and provide you with the best in the world!

Mom! My daughter is willing to exchange ten years of youth and beautiful years for your smile like the rising moon, and her daughter is willing to exchange her hair for your look back in the next century. ...

Mother, you are a glass of wine. Only you, only you can pour this snow lotus into your daughter's heart! This saussurea involucrata blooms for maternal love!

Mom, you can see your daughter covered in blood but just want to lie in your arms. You can see her daughter in gorgeous clothes, ordering the world to be at your mercy. ...

Mom, my daughter is willing to bow down like this until I am moved to stop breathing, and the world stops turning because of my bow down, in exchange for your happiness, well-being and good luck for three generations!

The moonlight lit up my outline. I don't remember how many centuries I bowed to the midnight moon, but my blood and tears are longer than the Yangtze River!