Elm trees still reliance on you, on coming you. Night still sleeps, while remembering you, until meet down. The roads still are decorated with remembering you. These days, nightingales are more impatient to sing a song sweet that deserves you. You become cluster in the earth’s hands and buds are waiting for sun’s birth.
The color of the words is the color of the life, when I compose for you. I know the first your appearance is with the story of love. You will change the gray sky to the most bluest. I saw a butterfly behind the cocoon that wished meet you. All days and nights, account seconds, and minutes to celebrate reach to you in the most cerulean sky. All buds worship the creator that creates you.
He created you to be a savior, to petition against the world of enmity and aversion. He created you to save the drowned people in the dirty sea.An emancipator to annunciate of freedom and magnanimity. I know you will come to burnish the opacity of centuries in the tablet of time that are full of disgrace and chaos.
I see the needed hands besides the mourned minarets that waiting for AZAN of love. I am waiting to decline the continual bitterness of marsh and I am grateful with your memories. Every day, lusterless eyes of sparrows dumbfound to the crepuscule. They hum together that will come the man who they want to be the captive in his trap forever. And whisper together the song of FARAJ and cause me to remember you.
I am sure you will come with a basket of light and kindness. You will come with dandelions, dandelions of justice. You will come with stable steps of fairness. You fill a World, a Galaxy of healing breaths that revive dead land.
I rise my empty hands every Friday mornings because I know you will appear that day. I pray for that moment that can see you.
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