A poem dedicated to all poets who observe the poetry around them and put it forth for the world.
This poem is about the increasing violence in the name of religion by people who probably do not understand the concept of religion in itself.
This Loneliness in the crowd, this clumsiness out of sophistication, this wickedness disguised in sweet words, and my poor happiness struggling for attention.
हर खामोशी के पीछे एक सैलाब उमड़ने कॊ है खड़ा, पर दुनिया के इन सवालों में कुछ तेज़ाब हॊता है । इंसान सोचता है कभी मिलेगा एक पल सुकून का पर कुदरत का खुशी से कुछ इंतकाम होता है ।
When these gliding bits of paper sway and float in the sky, resemble an epitome of human ardour high and high and high!
I thought one day that between gold and copper who is the one better and deserving? Gold, the one famous for its lustre and beauty, or copper that makes it enduring.
Here’s how dreams work for a constantly dreaming person 🙂 Sometimes sweet, sometimes ecstatic. Often scary, but always classic. For every situation and at every stake, My poor heart has a dream to make!