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Mountains don't move with words,
weak roots can never tolerate win..


No one attained it easily,
you have to spend sleepless nights..
Ravindra gora Nov 23
It's as ironical to find true love ,
as to call
a missing ball as "strike" in baseball..
what do you want to now?,
she said..

How could i say i wanted to
kiss the very source of the question?

How could i explain myself when
the seeds of doubt had penetrated in
the soil of her mind

How could have i showed the apology in
eyes without being carried away by her
cherubic innocence...
Ravindra gora Oct 27
When i stand in
front of a mirror,
i see my reflection
"bruised" and "battered",
the injuries not being
seen by mortal eye

so here's a conversation
with me

THE REAL ME: π–ˆπ–”π–’π–•π–‘π–†π–Žπ–“π–˜
I curse it for being so naive,
i reprimand it for not
saying the right things
to me that time,
for not showing me this
picture of myself during that
period , when the devil possessed me..

THE MIRROR ME:π–†π–—π–Œπ–šπ–Šπ–˜
I indeed told you that,
you were not doing the right thing

THE REAL ME: π–—π–Šπ–’π–Šπ–’π–‡π–Šπ–—π–˜
i suppressed those weak,
feeble voices that arose within me,
bringing down my elation..
but then , i had wanted that
high epitomising feeling more than
this bleak pin poking statement..

THE REAL ME: π–˜π–ˆπ–”π–‘π–‰π–˜
why were you not too powerful
to overpower my descision??

THE MIRROR ME:π–‰π–Šπ–‹π–Šπ–“π–‰π–˜
When you yourself were too
weak to hold you own love,
how do you expect me to
be powerful??
after all i reside within you..

THE REAL ME HAS NOTHING TO SAY
, BUT STARE AT ITS OWN REFLECTION...
WELL, THIS IS THE CLOSEST POEM TO ME,
I HAVE WRITTEN TILL NOW...
Ravindra gora Oct 25
Little was the age
Little was known to us
When we were introduced
To each other by innocence
The hearty laughters
The sneaky mischiefs
The harmless lies
Defined us
With always having my back
To standing next to me
While being caught
HE WAS MY GGANGBU
#ggangbu
Ravindra gora Oct 19
Although if β€˜one’ wishes to beat death,
even the angels of death can be bought.
Ravindra gora Oct 15
If the world was made of paper and the sea made of ink,
I would write everywhere that I love you
sharing this beautiful piece from an unknown poet...
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