• beleza_ 7w

    @miraquill @writersnetwork

    Two lovers found a starry sky while hiding with the clouds in the gleaming night
    Lying on the cool sand, hugging each other, listening to the chirping of the ocean in the calm breeze, playing the flute, the lover sings a song for his girlfriend

    Whose tune started making words dance on the breathless old pages
    Who was making the heartbeat away from the lover, like the moon, the meeting of the hopes coming back
    On which the roses of love blossomed between the sparkling sandy pearls.
    Which became a bouquet of dried flowers surrounded by letters bound for ever waiting

    Her eyes look like unheard stories
    a beautiful girl whose soul is devoted to love
    Blooms like delicate buds with smiles on the lips
    Every reason for her smile is dedicated to her lover
    a beautiful girl I don't think is beautiful,
    when she melts the pain from the barren heart and makes me swoon like a flower
    Who decorates red color in her demand and accepts golden good luck
    A beautiful girl whose sweet voice makes my every pain sweet

    The rain is falling in the midst of the darkness where the fragrant jasmine buds are blooming and bringing the rain into itself
    Birds looking for a roost and rejoicing in a love song sitting among fresh leaves
    The firefly, drunk in the freshness of the newly born buds, is kissing the fragrance
    Baby butterflies waiting for the nectar of flowers to the tune of the flute

    Your smile is a lie that conquers my heart even in anger
    Don't know how my silent despair draws your attention
    The showers of your love water the dry whirlwind of the heart
    You weave your every wound into a lovely smile
    You listen to every false criticism with an impeccable heart

    When flowers bloom at, they become a bouquet in the hands of lovers by giving their attendant with fragrance.
    Every flower sometimes becomes a message of union and sometimes separation.
    Even after being separated, it becomes a fragrance that remains in the hands.
    Saying goodbye to dry leaves again become the autumn of love


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