Time is sleeping.
Sand will be the last thing remaining,
Sand that covers planets,
Reflected moonbeams in the sand.
Sand is crumbled mountains and the remains of all that existed.
Sand is soft and white, kissing your foot like clean water.
There is a precise total for all the grains of sand on earth,
As well as for the starry worlds above our heads
(supposedly the same for each, if only we knew it),
But it’s more important to know that the grains of sand
Grow constantly in number and the deserts are getting bigger
And the stars are biding their time.
(Peter Waters)
You are blinded by shame
For all you have done
It hurts me so bad
That I
I thought I saw you the other day
I was wrong
I thought I heard your voice
<तुम आओ तो
इस बार लौट कर मत जाना।
You told me not to fart mom,
so I didn't eat the beans.
You told me it would smel
I don't want to keep feeling this way,
Because each time I come closer, you move away.
Get that nit comb through those strands, This lice lotion best of brands, Naught The answer lies true in my heart, So if I tell you, will you tear it apart? Or wi Hope Is The Thing With Feathers "Hope" is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune Your lips so soft and red. The thought of kissing you is stuck in my head. &n
"Ek muddat ke baad milne wali thi kaid se Azadi,
.
.
.
.
.
