جايه على بالي هيج اسوي 🙂

شتكولون؟

Some nights, the silence turns into a gallery of voices that were never meant to stay. I close my eyes to escape, but spend the dark hours pacing through rooms of memory, holding onto shadows that should have dissolved long ago. Morning comes, and though the sun rises, I emerge carrying the exhaustion of a traveler who journeyed nowhere and fought everything.