Sleepless In Amman

And as I gaze into the darkness of the young night, my sleepy eyes were awakened to behold the glorious scene of a full moon floating upon the gloomy sky, burdened sky of clouds praying for rains to release the burdens into the thirsty streets, my sleepy eyes are open, tickled by the wet breezes carrying on the smell of daffodils and jasmine, carrying on the whispers of the passers by, carrying on the life in the streets of Amman.

And so my sleepless eyes got me out of bed, I put on my coat and pushed my dizzy feet into the street, sat by the pavement and watched the dull night filled up with life, counted the cars that left in front of my sight, some were driving so fast, some had put music that you get to hear for seconds before the car fades away, I walked down the street, touched by a tender chill which I believe won’t feel the same anywhere else.

I walked among the sleepless crowd, found myself lost within the yearning voice of Aziz Maraka coming from one of the shops; I stopped to hear the music and sighed along the rhythms of the story of Amman, the music took me away, closed my eyes and let the air of this city falls upon my face, brings back all the memories I long for, then I opened my eyes and gazed into the scene of Amman at midnight knowing this scene shall never fade away through my eyes.

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