When she begins to feel the caressing of morning breath on her soft cheeks,
and its breeze starts to stir the silken strands of her hair,
and the merry rays of the sun starts to reveal her gorgeous beauty that usually dazzles the beholders\' eyes,
she breathes out a heavy sigh.
A grave sigh that can burn the flowers,
hanging from the wrought-iron railings of her balcony.
Contemplating the light of the holy morning that has begun to fill the four corners of the horizon,
with the mellowness of its perpetual rapture of rebirth.
The perpetual rebirth that is capable of resuscitating the happiness,
robbed by the depressing hours of the night.
The gloom of night hours still lingering in the sky of her bright morning.
Rendering her heart incapable of receiving the influx of the invigorating force,
inherent in the beautiful rays of the sun.
The animating force that is capable of resuscitating our hopes and rejuvenating our dreams.
Our dreams about far more better tomorrow.
The bright sunlight usually nurses them in the soil of young hearts.
But her very young heart cannot yet receive the message of the rejuvenative morning.
Her tender heart is still submerged in her sadness,
and she cannot join the congregational singing of birds in branches,
when they see the glorious morning light heralds the dawn of hope.
Lovely flowers, nearby lake, dancing treetops, fluffy clouds, and ice caps on the mountainous tops mean nothing to her now.
Her whole universe has taken the form of a tiny rectangular apparatus which is usually called smartphone,
and the last received message has depressed her greatly,
and reduced all her hopes to nothingness, in spite of her very young age.
Questioning herself, is the One who created the Heavens and Earth still able to create another suitable partner,
like the unmatchable, unequalled, unparalleled, peerless ex who has sadly sent this devastating message?