Dear Boredom, As you know, it's lockdown prevailing over the whole country, for 'world' would be an over statement I suppose, I hope you are getting good company nowadays. Although, you have always been as active as the nightingale throughout my life, I find you somewhere diminishing and being lost in the mist in the orb of my life. I am no necromancer to keep orbs and cauldrons to see future and make potions yet I feel that you are losing your part in my life, especially. I don't know if this is the beginning of filling of the crevice of my soul or the end of the depth of the ocean in which I'm drowning. Nevertheless, I feel a special essence of comfort, somehow on the pronunciation of your name. Strange, isn't it? | caption | Dear Boredom, As you know, it's lockdown prevailing over the whole country, for 'world' would be an over statement I suppose, I hope you are getting good company nowadays. Although, you have always been as active as the nightingale throughout my life, I find you somewhere diminishing and being lost in the mist in the orb of my life. I am no necromancer to keep orbs and cauldrons to see future and make potions yet I feel that you are losing your part in my life, especially. I don't know if this is the beginning of filling of the crevice of my soul or the end of the depth of the ocean in which I'm drowning. Nevertheless, I feel a special essence of comfort, somehow on the pronunciation of your name. Strange, isn't it? Such a deep title you have been given - somewhere between boring a well in a village to quench the thirst of the thirsty villagers, especially to see the alluring and satisfactory smiles of the kids there and the free-dom which lies in the wings of the birds - the same flapping yet giving a distinct dimension, each time.
