Years of solitude has started in this world of strange language. It is as if you are alone even people walks and talks by your side when you don't understand them. Its like walking between herd of cows and buffalows, when the village cowboy feels the utter loneliness every day. No doubt the emotions can be seen even in the eyes of the animals.
No one here knows where the pieces are scattered. Where we lost precious stone? Don't we dream about it everyday? We have travelled so far to get that now, stone that would covert things into gold and make you live forever. Stone of fortune that have led us to live in this solitude for a long long time.
Nostalgia runs around in everyone's head. Peace is seen in our streets, and we have probably forgotton the bloody hounds. Beauty stays in mind, pain of past lost in the solitude of years comming by.
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