The distances will go on indefinitely, and the people will be dwarfed, they will be gone, and they will become a mere memory of the missed, the time has elapsed and its details have been scattered, and the heart refuses to acknowledge this and resists for your survival alive between the two folds of memory and pleads with imagination to collude with it. Killer, and melt the frost of the terrible silence ..
My lady has become yesterday evening just a mental ecstasy, and fed his mornings like a pale spectrum, and I became a man of the past until another notice, and you became a symbol of eternal Fshli ..
Today, love is no longer a process, and the silence has flooded me between its forms .. I plunge into its heat relentlessly .. not really today, except what time will, no joy delay the enormity of the tragedy .. I walk towards sunset, and I know that no sunrise will come .... How much I hate food because it is a project end .. Project to tell the dream .. the truth .. to the joy ..
Steem on,
rawanebadre !
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