A woman called Mother
It was a cold, dark night. All the girl could ever recall were some lost memories and broken images: images of her calm face, the sweetness in her voice and a real yet fake smile, soft touch of her hands…
Author
It was a cold, dark night. All the girl could ever recall were some lost memories and broken images: images of her calm face, the sweetness in her voice and a real yet fake smile, soft touch of her hands…
She sways like cold thin air Flows like a gentle water As strong as standing earth And burning in the fire of passion She is the one with strong desire For dance is all she admires World has given her…
Hello. Are you listening? The sounds. The sounds of crushed souls and lost hopes. The sounds of absolute silence and unfelt presence. The sounds of endless servitude and lack of gratitude. The sounds of shattering dreams and dying flesh….
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