Behind my tears

the perfume of long-forgotten memories. Her dark, mysterious eyes held untold tales, the echoes of which could be heard in the tremor in her lau

weeping willows. The goodwill of its residents, whose lives were linked into a tapestry of shared pleasures and tragedi

ers, a pool of liquid dreams that attentively listened to the murmurs of those who dared to reveal their emotions, mirrored the sky. Her heart

sured and love lost, of wars won and scars buried. The echoes of these stories

y were borne by the wind. His eyes lit up with curiosity like newly born stars. He stood bac