They were never there...
Meant for an end...
A paper boat in the city's puddle
A dried petal in my journal...
The splash of a rain,in my lone skies
The glimpse of a smile,my silver lining...
They are my people...
They are the intervals,in
The whole,of my poetry...
To be continued.....
Meant for an end...
A paper boat in the city's puddle
A dried petal in my journal...
The splash of a rain,in my lone skies
The glimpse of a smile,my silver lining...
They are my people...
They are the intervals,in
The whole,of my poetry...
To be continued.....
as life proceeds and we keep longing for intervals..but intervals turn out to be just illusions.
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