I was writing about expatriation.
And the refugee journey after the rape of his land.
Those decisions were made under pressure.
So came the robber person in my mind.
I continued writ to my company.
With high curtsy lines.
To understand we are not animals.
And I caught my speech pen.
To my beloved, a beautiful thief of love.
So I said.
It is August.
It has a precious reason.
Born a wonderful darling.
A toast to celebrating.
To person we stand up for her like harpoons.
And the young in her fancy began to age.
Her words in my mind like alcohol.
And my calmness is a fee.
In God willing, Allah gave me what I want.
Give each one what's good.
There're no regrets in my heart.
Because it's from the base roots.
And her fancy isn't disaster.
My pen does not lie.
It strikes the evil ones.
It wakes the up the high sense for good ones.
I do not like to play games.
And I'm not a cheater,
So my pen writes the words and answer.
From the day I saw her.
I knew.
She fixing what is broken.
And the sourness with her is syrupy.
And she can open handcuffs .
And she is disbanded the difficult things.
She is looking.
Shining like the fire from a matchstick.
And I'm sure.
All before her are flies.
And thanks to fate, it hit the target.
Heart is never ever afraid.
Just afraid of donor God.
He's opening the lock of all.
So I announced without hesitate.
I'm a falcon above the clouds.
And my pen for her is not gone.
And my attraction to her deepens.