• houdamouaraf 22w

    Here I lie upon the ground of my kindled garden of truth .
    All burnt to ashes , after a holocaust of sweet memories ,
    That took away the luster of a zealous youth
    And blurred the pages of pleasant stories .
    The love we had , lingers !
    Once bloomed evergreen with the hymns of a perennial affection .
    Now lays waste and hibernate in the tip of two strangers fingers .
    Strangers whose minds deny each other's existence  , whose hearts beseech each other's attention .