It is a sad song.
We keep singing even so.
Over and over.

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from France
seen from United States
seen from Russia

seen from United Arab Emirates

seen from United States

seen from Ukraine
seen from Netherlands
seen from United States

seen from Germany

seen from Germany
seen from Oman

seen from United States
seen from Russia
seen from United States
It is a sad song.
We keep singing even so.
Over and over.
He only re-reads these days, but not literature any more, which is a flea market of frailties. People love literature without realizing that such a love is a surrender to the tastes of alpha cultures, patriarchs and leftists. But millions choose to surrender, unflagging in their search for a mention of themselves in the works of others; something, anything that reminds them that the world, despite everything, is about them. Most of reading is probably a mere selfie.
Manu Joseph, Miss Laila, Armed and Dangerous
We who are strong [in our convictions and of robust faith] ought to bear with the failings and the frailties and the tender scruples of the weak; [we ought to help carry the doubts and qualms of others] and not to please ourselves. - Romans 15:1 | Amplified Bible, Classic Edition (AMPC) Amplified Bible, Classic Edition Copyright © 1954, 1958, 1962, 1964, 1965, 1987 by The Lockman Foundation.
Eurydice dies.
Orpheus walks straight to hell
just to bring her back.
So he sings his song
and the flowers sprouted from
the cracks on the wall.
They are yet to know
that nothing ends well for them.
It is a sad tale.
She fixes her gaze.
The voice is too familiar.
Her tears start falling.
And he finds her there—
wallowing in memories
of the love she lost.