Like dews resting
                   On petals

Like snow
                  Holding fingers of leaves

Thy memories were shining

Your true capacity is to discover the truth

Failure is not death

It's Renaissance for a new wonder

Those
Who
Suffer silently
                         Grow wise

Sufferings are painful
But the fruits of forbearance are sweet

Curious
To know

About atonement

You are truly perspicacious

Condescending is not cowardice
It's your audacity to maintain your goodness

We don't grow wise
Until we commit mistakes

Love is pouring into my head
Yeah I'm just 14 and they say
Love is a crime until adolescence absorb you
Yeah they are right
But let they know
Being in love
Is human and I'm too human

Never compare your talent with anyone.
This is the attribute of a shakespearean buffoon.

Freedom is a seed to sprout anywhere

It's the softness of flowers
            That make them honourable