The mind does not work the way one wish
or like to, which is simply most of the time.
A boat lost in ocean,
it obeys highs and lows. Night when ocean kindly calms, when he swims in a space
of sheer serenity. When ocean is stormy, day or night, the heart sinks into
darkness swirls with apprehension, smashing blindly against currents of
anxiety. Ocean depth is not scary, perhaps the invisible currents of
uncertainty, anxiety that make it scary.If two out of seven the ocean dark calmness favors he, he cannot brag no spring. Who dares to anticipate springs seven out of seven? What future lies ahead for those suffers complete rumbles and ruins of their beloved homes in Syria? Deafened cries no one can hear! Deadened pain who can feel?
Why lesser so many lives? If, and when, spring frequents his path, he knows it is fortune. I beg and pray good wishes, peace and happiness for those who are not.
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