your breath like the spider crept on my chest the imperishable desire built the omnipotent web deep in soul to make my emotion as the wing of helpless insect.
if a nest is knocked down many can be built if one night is set many a blooming night will be on the branch of time but --- the dream that cannot be conceived and rattling in the net of sleepless night sure, is a prattle on the lips of a cynic !!!
to dream nothing is needed except the burning desire and the rage of tides in rib-cage ---- but, when the thorn of night goes on pricking the heart of sleep-- when the tears of dew rolling down the cheeks of confused sky--
the synonym of pain is the PAIN only
when eyes are floating in darkness like two innocent paper-boats meaning of everything seems absurd-- and pain appears to be the the only compass !!!!