The lonsesome night I lay awake.

The air outside caressing its way in;

moving in every beat of my memory of you.

A chill it enters.

A raging fire it leaves in...

Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.

 

~ Kahlil Gibran

I had been dreaming; there were the butterflies come from mist, and I was dreaming among the violets...

 

~ Yashi Zo

 

 

Allah are butterflies outside...explore and tis all something else...