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Repost from NIMA FAIN. 🍀
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
(For the love of Nima Fain.)
Bridges grew weary of waiting
and the branches bent to listen,
there emerged the faint rustle
of footsteps returning.
──────────────
Thousand seasons have scattered like petals to the wind, every road, every river, conspired to lead us here, threshold where vision meets valor, and passion dares to take human form. Move like twilight over clover fields, carry within their palms both the weight of creation and the grace to set it free.
ㅤ RECRUITING MALE SUITOR.
... Journey Of The Lost Finests
& so we write, not as recruiters,
but as curators of destiny.
“Offer places in a chronicle.” Rekindling of ancient calling. beneath d’ branches, beside the river’s whisper, we shall gather and forge a future that refuses to be ordinary. One letter. One moment. One irrevocable crossing of the bridge. Come stand among us, before the petals fall, before the breeze forgets your name.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
