The soul of my poems |
Ma,
I feel fear...
He flies
his tattered kite...
"Amma", her voice goes
as she strides barefoot...
What if poetry was a purple sponge-
the asset of the royal...
She scribbles an array of curved lines
uniformly on the paper...
"Amma", her voice goes
as she strides barefoot...
Counting the syllables of friendship,
my heart realizes the non-existence of rengays in...
Virginic beauty
of a captivating thick pool of coolness...
"Hope is that element of optimism which enables an Individual to sustain happiness even in their worst times...." |
"The importance of memories is known when everyone leaves us...." |