A bird without wings…….

When I sit, talking to myself; I feel that I am a bird without wings…
Every day I open my window… let the sun goes through my skin to give
me warm and strength it is the nature gift…to go on your life with hop…
….is that enough or not but the bird cannot flies without wings…

"passion"

I feel what you feel about “passion”, and you do not know from where it comes.

Touch the deep of your soul, waiting for something or someone. Do you wait, so

ask the wind about hope, ask about death while living, about walking while

sitting, about every thing that move while stopping and speak while silent….

There is a drop of tears from black bolls, show up when passion mentions…