From the far side i see the shatters of glasses all reflecting the skyline of mans beauty just as a rose it has its thorns if touched roughly. As the wind prevails in a distant the red finches move to their nest to awaiten, the passing night . Everyone in distress as curfew is on the verge, not again to slumber , not again to wait, not again into loneliness in this solemn night
©qarya
J