I was brewed as my tears brewed quietly

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1 year ago

If you want to think!

I want to touch it without interruption as much as I have been breathing in the address of thousands of prose hidden in my simple traveler dreams.

My eyes on the lines and my windows on my back.

You are hiding in the wide window of my heart and here is the scale of my love.

I'm writing.

That's what I'm loyal to you.

A painful lever and every time my way falls to you.

You are hidden in my story, my dear reader and when I emulate, I took the place of hundreds of thousands of people hidden yesterday, my dear reader.

I sincerely opened my arms with sincerity, I opened my arms.

What I want is nothing because I am hidden in you and I hope that I kept hidden.

The hire of yesterday and day, which weighs thousands of tons of trucks and letters/iyat, which weighs thousands of tons of life, which is destroyed with my emotions.

As of the moment, I keep my age because I suddenly become a sadness of sadness and my horizon and my passion full of spirituality.

After a difficult day, I couldn't get the sleep last night, and I ran to my Lord: He's already ready with me and I leaned my head and poured me with dozens of surah and prayer. But not enough.

A sea hidden in me and I wish you a calm and peaceful life from the universe.

I went out with the restlessness inside me yesterday screaming seagulls hidden in the clouds hidden nests in the day of the weekend and lasted until midnight and horny people now use the crazy laughter no matter what they think they have fun under the title of happiness and entertainment.

I was brewed as my tears brewed quietly.

I bought it.

I got trouble.

I couldn't even classify my problem, I finally found myself in prayers and the divine authority I opened.

I have no authority on earth, I didn't actually want it, maybe I probably got the chance to be a CEO at the moment, while I just pursued my dreams and opened wings to other worlds.

I won a lot and during the last time:

First I won myself, in fact, the mountain hill winted scoop has always searched for myself and when I was sure that I was wasting incredible time while positioning it somewhere.

Three or five diplomas in terms of information.

These were not enough for me and I toured with my traveler's heart.

I opened a wing to other channels other than a beautiful level of a reputable profession and sewed my beautiful and wounded students with my teacher identity.

However, I was the injured.

And we treated each other's wound.

I was both mother and teacher.

I was a student and the teacher and the smoke from the chimney, and sometimes a city ferry, this time I went between the two sides.

While I was fond of my nothingness and my inner voice is dominant.

The grunts of the outside sound.

Then my relatives I account for…

I took refuge in my knowledge and hope.

I stayed at the teacher's chair for a while I did not come to the continuation of this damned bureaucracy and the law of the change in the law I was wasted…

Dear reader; You are both my student and my friend.

You're a comrade of the prince with white horsemen that I don't expect.

If I expect, I embrace you in the vastness of my dream world and embrace you with my ability to love.

My struggle for life and with myself.

My life burned without slowing down…

Whoever you are, I am too.

If I am whoever I am, my confidant.

If you wonder, I want to present my inner voice to you in the sensitivity of art, and thousands of petitions and declarations that I cannot offer.

Hundreds of exam paper I read.

Hundreds of books I read.

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