The bud was flying,full of desires,of becoming a flower. The joy of growing,revealed everywhere,to the the sun, the airand the changing weather. Some bees helped out,and petals got open.It was his heart,doing cuddling with nature. Before it could breathe,in lap of his mother,It was plucked out,by a nature lover.Keep reading
The pond, the lake,and the little lotus,Everyone has a story, some untold, some are weaving. these stories are real,like us, but, they never share us, like we never share ours. They play, they love, and they get hurt,they feel broken and fight for their survival.Keep reading
Right there,on the wall of lost time,sitting is a clock. Looking through the eyes of time,everything and everywhere. There isn’t solace,but a sadness that keeps getting deeper with time. If you know and look into it, you will find it hard to understand. The petrichor,the dusky smell of wooden trench, used long back to make…Keep reading
The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!
Sweet voice, sweet lips, soft hand, and softer breast,
Warm breath, light whisper, tender semi-tone,
Bright eyes, accomplish’d shape, and lang’rous waist!… Continue reading “The day is gone, and all its sweets are gone!” | John Keats →
These mountains, a solid architecture,a life with the green canvas, all over it,like a bold green flesh, raised by the sun,the summers, winters and spring passing,it stays still, never complaining, about anything. In summers, Sun melts him, like fire vomiting dragon,his little trees and plants die due to illness,lack of water causes death to beloved…Keep reading
Writing on leaves, the drops of fogsome sublime poetries,of life & lies,burning and dying,true love in the eyes. Escaping from the arms of clouds,falling to the surface of grounds,it cools the heat all around. Scattered onto the soil,it asks for an another life.a life of time, for a lifetime,nothing it says, but denies.Keep reading
Whimpers in the maze of tough thoughts,A life with lenity.A thought of seeking coincidence,With wondrous epiphany. A morning that seeks night,But couldn’t.A night that seeks dawn,But couldn’t. It stays within,And asks quietly,Whether you’re,what you areor not?? When not heard,It stays where it belongs,Like a snail in its shell.Keep reading
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