Spinning our destiny with tar thread
No one against her needle will stead

Her  tatter hand work on fate loam
Embroidering our life  till our doom

Untie  some  stitches  and bind others
The linen  fibers  embrace each other

Taking one step to the right and other to the left
To weave our portless maze across the  weft

And we are  lost figure in that work of art
She stick her needle deep in our heart

Sewing dungeon to imprison our vivid anticipation
Restrain our  dream with her merciless limitation

Her hand moving swiftly with great perseverance
On the worn  brow  sweat drop make  her appearance

She exhausts herself knotting traps across our way
Her omnipotent power  all our  courage dismay



This is from person whose heart become tired of being forced to cope with what the life set for him 

















   







I

Dear Merna

as usual I'm veryyy impressed!!