If you ask me, what a perfect paradox is,
I'll say October-
A month, brimming with beauty.
Oh! look its mystical hands,
Painting flawlessly a vibrant canvas.
dews on grass,
And mist slips through windowpanes,
misty golden morn, yield to ruddy sunsets.
And then the dear moon!
Illuminated softly,
chilly October nights.
Isn't it fascinating!
Yet
Beneath this splendour lies a truth.
Dance of dead pale leaves,
And a whisper of change.
With each cold breeze,
a quiet melancholy lingers
bright and pale moon's sigh,
a hint of loss,
as warmth of summer days goes by.
A reminder that
the brightest of colours also fade
Even decay holds its grace
October is both, the bloom and fall
The light, the shadow, holding all
And so in each of us it dwells-
We all carry a little October in overselves!
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कवियों ने गढ़ दिए
अपनी कविताओं में
चकोर की वियोग गाथाएं,
हरसिंगार के मोह की व्यथाएं,
व्याकुल अमिकर की पीड़ा,
किंतु सबने छोड़ दिया,
अभागे सूर्य को,
ज्वाला में धधकते हुए,
और नही समझ पाया संसार,
देदीप्यमान दिनकर के ग्रहण की पीड़ा।-
Give me a topic I'll write something.
Write for me or about me.
No I can't write anything about you in haste.
Love?.
Are you mad?. Is there any difference between you and love?. Stupid!.
You're love and love is you.
And then she noticed for the very first time that his cheeks turned really pink while blushing.-
एक दिन मेरी कलम भी सभी चट्टानों को तोड़ते हुए धारा प्रवाह के समान बहेगी...— % &
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निशान जो अब तक ठहरे है जख्म गहरे रहे होंगे,
पैरों के छाले है गवाह वो तलाश में दूर तक चले होंगे,
कि लाजिमी नही मुकम्मल हो जाना कुछ सफर सिर्फ सबक के लिए होते हैं।।-