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Inspired by the following song (discovered by coincidence believe it or not) I thought once more about the meaning of our words.

I keep listening to it without having enough (yet) because each one of these words leaves a mark on my vivid soul, eager to capture all senses, even the slightest shade.

Happy with that, recently I was thinking about whether I should write down my own soul lyrics or not?! In a prisoner world would my poems bring the hope of a better feeling? would my poems be the food and the water of that prisoner’s miserable life which is LIFE itself?


P.S Thanks Sfinx for your words (if your hands and eyes still pass through my place)- indeed, being a perfectionist is so torturing, yet….