It might take a year .
It might take a day .
But what's meant to be will always find its way .

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Emptied her existence and left her shelter in search of a new paradise , her "mortem " . She was the one to leave all delight and bliss to find her homage in singing her last melody , upon which the God , the Lark and the Nightingale paused to listen to get mesmerized .
Sang only once in her life after being tranquillized , upon resting on the biggest thorn of the laurel . She sang in her selfless love , sojourned all gaiety , endured all sufferings and abided in the abyss of her doom . 'Unto death was she destined , and unto death shalt she return , chant the opus of love , harmony of life .'
It's her sacrificial music to her love , to her life . Indeed , life's most satisfying instant can be purchased at the cost of great pain .
_The Divine Thorn bird ...

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Umr bhar bs
ek hi malaal rha,
Tera milna mehaz
Ek sawaal rha !!!!
💔

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some love stories are born to be incomplete...
eg....thorn bird

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ना चांद ला पाऊंगी
ना सितारे तोड़ पाऊंगी
बहुत आम लड़की हूं यार
तुम्हे अपनी हाथ की चाय ज़रूर पिलाऊंगी 💞
☕

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Paradoxically ,
sometimes when the heart
is too heavy ,
You need to pierce it ,
hurt it some more ,.
with sharp thorns of memory.
Yes..
Like ' thornbirds'.
A little bloody pain oozes out.
Maybe the heart starts beating..
....again.

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Like a thorn bird,
my heart keeps returning home
to painful memories.
My stubborn, good-for-nothing, treacherous, foolish heart,
thrives on pain .

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//thornbirds//

So often human-beings are like 'Thorn-birds',
Hurting their own selves till heart in shreds ,
Seeing every drop of blood ooze and spread ,
And still they sing soulfully till they're dead,
Never a complaint, never a regret .......

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