Iran Tunnelled Through By Hindu

Take in a song, at your core, and you will know the falicies of those to be next to me. There is a poor me for all of you, and I just move forward knowing that romance is not a reality. I play with the sentiment, to write daily, but I know not a single soul in that way. I have come across different men in my journey, but they have never fessed up about feelings, thus it is not real. I write in a sort of vacuum, and I breath in light to maintain my lungs every day. It is hard to be seen every day. Maybe the man of IRAN will see me as an entity and not someone to be messed with anymore. I knock at many doors and find a beautiful AMAL on the other side. I keep my head up and a GARDINIA sprouts out of my third eye, fragrancing the whole land.