A beautiful shadow of past

By MimoMimo448

237 23 31

A boy who can't speak but has a unique talent for expressing his feelings, Maybe none of us have the ability... More

Who is that boy?
Whose friends are they?
Who's that little girl?
When I first saw
Golden Luminescence
first meeting
Our first conversation
Beautiful souls
Crezy but Calm
Off something between
Just looking for answers
The answers are unknown
conversation

Heaven on earth

35 3 3
By MimoMimo448

Author pov

A beautiful village there houses have their own beauty.

A house is different from another house.It looks like a simple mud house,but do we know..... how difficult it is to make this simple mud house?

When this mud house is destroyed by flood every year and how long it takes to build a similar house every single time.

How much soil is needed to make it.It is very hard to make that mud house with a lot of style and then to paint it very beautifully with natural colours but then the house becomes worth seeing and it gives peace to our heart.

The environment carries a unique beauty of its own just like how the wind is blowing, clothes are felt like they are calling us happily for them.

Clothes are not much, four or five maybe,they look very old because those clothes that work all day that their colors  fade away because of burning in the sun.

That's what a struggling mother is capable of.....

It's true that the clothes are faded, but the softness of old clothes is different.

Just like mother softness for her children's......just like flower pattale.

There are many bunches of flowers on the side. It seems like they are nodding their heads to show how calm and happy they are, not afraid that someone will run over or a vehicle will come and crush them.

I wish I could live in peace and happiness like them, like the trees.... with carbon dioxide and used to live a blissful life but that can't be i think it's hard for me to ask,because I am a human being who has to hurt many people's with there meaningless, brutality, inhumanity, cruelty.

In this so called life every night every human has to think that the next morning thet human have to fight for another day to get broken down again and again, fooling people, making grave for there own feelings.

But there was someone who flew like the wind, called people to him like those clothes, and when he was  happy, he too shook his head with overwhelming response for his happyness.

That boy is sitting in the kitchen of a muddy beautiful house in that village.

🙏🙏🙏🙏

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