My love is a spiral labyrinth of a mixture of gloominess and happiness. One who could sneak into it would lose the way out of it.
You may savour the gladsomeness equidistantly in one quarter of my heart as you may, tryingly and oppositely, regorge the tristesse of each and every part of my heart.
I am totally drowned into an ethereal abyss. No single egress! No possible course of action! I am mysteriously ambuscaded and poised at the lip of a chasm of tristesse, yet gripped with some braids of joie de vivre hitherto hardly seen in the last couple of years of my mediocre life.
By Walid Boureghda
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