Menikmati sunset

Every twilight has his own story because he is a good friend. And this man believes that dusk will keep those who pick up the day in despair then drive him home with prayer and recollection of every good thing they dream of. The twilight that comes with time will take care of the wound and make sure we will be fine if we can be good friends for him, friends who exchange stories and hopes about the color and the beauty of his power.

When he got home, this man never missed a single twilight. He entrusted many things and the memory of every dusk present as a sign of life had only just begun because dusk was the starting point of a person starting his life, starting another hope of change. At his house, on the stone steps, the man looked at the end of the dusk, the birds flew back to the nest and the little boys ran to our village village. It all looked so beautiful, like repeating an old lesson about simple happiness and then the man would chant a lot of names and hopes, about all the things that because of the weakness he could not keep on going, there was only a simple and a little technical prayer this evening; hopefully everything is well preserved.