Spirit of a prisoner

I was imprisoned until I forgot who I was, and how I got to this secluded room. Thirty years have passed and no one has visited me yet. What happened?
Prisoner, Innocent, Single ...
I see in my prison only an iron window that is very far from me, and that whenever the evening ends I will throw some of the dry bread from them. The rats will get me to take some of it before I go barefoot to pick up what is left of it.
And I will return to my place and join my men, so the cold will wear my body, the nakedness of the nakedness, which is not complete except the jellabab torn from time immemorial was the last thing I saw of my mother when she left me with him. I put my head between my men and shed my eyes like blood. Express the invasion of aches that reside within my heart.
I wonder where they are now? Was not their daughter humiliated? I was not his sincere wife? Her witty friend? Was not something ?? Why did not I sleep yet?
I shout to Ali to extinguish the flame of my burning and I quickly recover it for fear that others will hear it.
Suddenly, my soul comes and sits in front of me, imitating my position and consecrating my unity ... I feel optimistic about seeing the moon and the sun someday, but at some point I get a kiss on my head from my parents or my mother's and my brother's hug. I enjoy a nice laugh. Or a nightmare.
Then I close my eyes and call upon God to be the last night in my prison.