Now in another world
I could learn to forget
But 'til then I'm here
making room for new regrets
Now some flowers they never bloom
And some flowers just bloom dead
mood - content/happy
music - tv noise
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
THE CLOUD-MESSENGER
Swerve from thy northern path; for westward rise
The palace balconies thou mayst not slight
In fair Ujjain; and if bewitching eyes
That flutter at thy gleams, should not delight
Thine amorous bosom, useless were thy gift of sight.
Swerve from thy northern path; for westward rise
The palace balconies thou mayst not slight
In fair Ujjain; and if bewitching eyes
That flutter at thy gleams, should not delight
Thine amorous bosom, useless were thy gift of sight.
No comments:
Post a Comment