Mornings Come and Go
Mornings come and go,
The first ray of sunshine seeping into my eyes and sparkling magic,
And I wake up,
The glory of every morning is picturesque like some strokes of paint brush here and there and voilà morning is ready,
Every morning air tastes different now that it is autumn the crispiness of the air can be felt in the lungs,
And when it was summer the morning air was a little hot and humid and it designed the beads of sweat on the forehead,
Mornings and the bird songs and the tranquility of it all reminds me of the meaning of being human.
And the
Mornings come and go.
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