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Perfume of Feelings - Hashimiyya Al-Musawi
JOD
Get it by 5 Aug | Order in 3 Hours 18 Minutes
O first love, enshrouded in my veins, mighty despite the roar of hardships. Let the bells toll, for Muharram has come, telling the tales of desolation. Let the revered sorrow ascend in my hymns to the peaks of clouds. A month wherein the stories from the pulpits are a sorrow recited, as the raven has crowed. In a bereaved moment we return, our tears are rain and scattered sorrows wail and plead for a revered memory. The memory of Hussein lives within us, immortal, flowing like melted honey. For they are the great pillars, and without them, this existence wades in the language of mirages. And they are the noble kings, their giving is a fragrance and an abundance from vast heavens.