The End

What once used to be the present, is now a dreadful chunk of history. A story of wounded nations, dilapidated cities, ramshakled streets and battered lives, victimized by war, written down on burnt parchments belonging to the past. Today, we live in a world where we seek shelter in glass houses but walk around with stones in our hands. down the line, flowers of hope would abstain from growing in the garden of love and that would mark the initiation of a world of concrete. There would be no flowers left even for adorning the graves of the dead. We will erect structures and we will destroy them. Life would be structured, devoid of sense and sensibility. And here we shamelessly brag about development.