The result of my life is no more than three words: I was raw, I became cooked, I was burnt.
Every bird will follow it's specie.
The final flight make your last journey from this strange world soar for the heights where there is no more God has created your wings not to be dormant as long as you are alive you must try more and more to use your wings to show you're alive.
Raise your words, not your voice.
O Seeker, pain and suffering make one aware of God.
Whatever lifts the corners of your mouth, trust that