Surrounded by fair people with tongues pure as streams of Ganga, at night throwing shadows of giant- scorpions

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What is being beautiful all about?
When others can't feel the beauty in the heart.

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We all love the moon,
But we don't know the pain behind the bright light

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Sometimes I contemplate
That my parents deserve a better daughter than me

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My muse told me from above,
I'm distinctive
She said
You are better off being bitter and honest, than being loved and bitter

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People end up remembering their minds,
Not, Faces.

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Of course, Rose is the most exquisite, but that does not imply Lilly isn't.
But, time makes fun of this beauty,
As this beauty steadily passes by.

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Where hast thou been, beautiful damsel,
Thee hast been that glorious aura
For that sailor,
Sailor, Sailor
Who sleeps on another woman's lap?
Blood drain the blood

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I've been thrown, squeezed,
I strive to find my voice,
and traveled through the darkness to find me,
As he says,
There is pleasure in poetic pains
And I just don't want my poems to be ordinary.

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Understanding poetry is also an Art,
You need to sleep in it...

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