Maa, you are an endless exhibition / of sweet-sour happiness
“The roads are too clean. The sun is too bright,” she thought.
Sumedha replied with annoyance, "I will make him say the words. It's so simple, 'Apni kemon achhen, bhalo?' Why can't he say it?"
A walkway through the crystal-clear lies
justice—where is justice?
Where voices unite, a chorus strong, / Demanding justice, righting wrong
This is a garden, these are my petals; this is my armoring plant
I've seen love/ Rolling down from a mother's eyes/ As she picks her lean child, bathed in innocent blood
go further than/ what the hills have seen/ through their ice pick scars
Suddenly, a giant shadow covered up the ground beneath their feet. When she looked up, she couldn’t see the face of the figure until it came closer and sat on the edge of the branch they were sitting on.
Clouds in heaven bow and billow around your feet, and you- glide through, oblivious to their ethereal presence.
The theocracy is crumbling in its seat
Nothing is meaningless if speech and silence fill void, flowing in the same force, and no one blocks the road to dreaming.
I tried to be renamed in the middle But my van and I have never been apart!
Suddenly, the shadow became larger on the wall. At that exact moment, something felt heavy on Farid’s chest–and got heavier by the minute. Everything was still, and in that silence, a silhouette slowly grew over Farid’s body.
She wakes up suddenly from her unnatural beeline posture, slowly and ever so gently, like a chained demon would after just hours of calculated slumber. I never look.
Break me into numbers and spirals, and blood and flesh make me all that I don't wish to be.
Showers and storms give way To a surge of sunlight A fragrance of hope floats in On morning breeze
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