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Our story harbored a beauty
Like a lover's tale
Painting poetry and forest romance
Is to what it translates
Our story revived its charm
Elements of intrigue and calm
You don't just admire the long way
I also treasure our stumbling blocks
Our story was that babble of laughter
A land of expressive gestures
A land of overwhelming indulgence
Submerged in the rosy sunshine
Shoulders of unwavering faith
A lover's tale is to what it translates...
I see the exhilarating sunshine, refreshing rain
One among the little -known legacies of you
I see the pleasure gushing without thankfulness
I see laughter riots without happiness
I see different weather in your dreary desert
I see innocence in your indifference
I see you in the swamps of sticky roots
No legitimate force can pull you out
Except the wilfulness of your heart
I could be the river meandering the countryside
To flow with you with eternal brilliance
I could be the lovely home on a tree-shaded street
To be a part of your visual field
I could be the only mystifying rose among thorns
To caress your bleeding finger
I could be your muse , the moon
To shower you with poise and pleasure
I could be you, your forgiving soul
To mend your thousand hidden cuts
When in September sunshine
The yellowing leaves mounded over our memories
Under the beautifully - painted tree
It made a noisy rustling
Humming sweet talks
When the world was still a magnificent dream...
Under the blanket shade  of date palms
Rosy sunshine rained on us back and forth
The seeds fell in harmony
The world was not yet awake
At the lustrous dawn
We slipped into each other's hearts..
I close my teary eyes leading to a vaulted tree
That world was a debilitating dream
The yellowed leaves and fallen seeds laid bare
As someone crushed the two ants parting  way
The tear trickled down my cheek..
I cultivate my soulful dreams
In dark, frozen hutments
In the tearshedding trauma
In the dignified sweat of labour
In repressive impairedness
Among intangible delights
Of a repaired lease
I penetrate into a blissful radiation
Radiation of ever-lasting candles
While dreaming an unsustainable dream
Among rags and foul trash
Poverty is a dying breath
A haunted house of lows and lows
A ladder's step wherein is a deceptive delusion
What I brazenly reap
What I surrender
When generosity will prevail
When coins be miniscule
Shall I bravely reap
Yet I surrender..
Between two extremes,
Two poles of universe
Heaven and Earth
The void is the messaging conduit
The breathe which retains
Middle of breathe in and breathe out
The void is the calm realism
The subtle connectedness of love
The gentle glory of balance
The void fills it all..
An overladen birch
Roots of which stimulate,
Shake, with a stony breath
Under the carpet of wilderness
Stingy insects rushing their way
To the broken heart,
Shattered as much as twigs around
Crumbling of which rustle,
Rustle with sweeping breeze,
Breeze that marked the end
End, a devastating one
Under the hanging birch
As the beetles sung the death march
The paddling flocked together
Dancing in a monotone of calling,
The silence of which silenced them..
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