BDK

Oud Abramad

Eau de parfum

At dawn, the doors close, and the light marble retains the warm embrace of the day. The lush garden exhales an atmosphere of serenity, with the trees extending their welcoming arms. The desert night slips silently under the arches, enveloping the garden in an aura of seclusion. In the twilight, someone crosses without making a sound, and the subtle rustle of fabric falling evokes the dropping of a mantle over the peaceful murmur of leather. The figure glides with grace and solemnity through the garden that has fallen into deep silence. Perhaps it is Abramad. A moment later, the heavy door slightly opens and a ray of light slips in, painting a golden trail on the stone. The majestic shadow projects itself, like a symbol of pride, in the wake of that golden light. And then, fading, it disappears. Lift your gaze to the seven windows of the palace, which open like large black eyes. In the stillness of darkness, someone stands before the vast desert, in a moment of pause and reflection.