Warmongers of Earth turn flat.
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Churning pollen for the bees
The river of separation freezein the cold patches of Earth leftwhere the Sun is to place kisses soft.
Love is not a raw emotion,
It is an eternal streamof truth divine, taking a form.The stories of conjugation,and those of the Couples-who descended down this Earthlike short lived bubbles.Love is not the stories thatwarm the vessels of desirefilled with crystals of lustand fluids of dark urged flair.Love is a rhyme sung by a heartin the lyrics of the eternal soulunder…
Dreams die never with distance
When love conquered frightful death.
It has knocked hard,
On the doorsshut from within,Calling without a name,the winter has come.The winter has comeWith all the allergiesWith all the disgraceWith all the distanceemerging out of nowhere,this is no more a seasonof moments to celebrate,nor of moments to lament,But to shrink downas much as you canto the core of yourvery existence.
ପୂର୍ବ ଥର ଭଳି କଣ
ଠିକ ସେଇ ସାତ ବର୍ଷ ପାଇଁ?ନା, ତମ ଆସିବା ର ସେଇପୂଣ୍ୟ ବଳ ନେଇଜୀବନ ରୁ ବିରହ ର ଅବସାନ ହେବ-ସବୁ ଦିନ ପାଇଁ,ଅବଶିଷ୍ଟ ପରମାୟୁ ପାଇଁ? ?ଖାଲି ଏ ଜନମ ନୁହଁଏଇ ଜନ୍ମ, ପର ଜନ୍ମ,ଯେତେ ଯେତେ ବାର ଆମେଏ ମାଟି କୁ ଆସୁଥିବା, ଜନ୍ମ ନେଉଥିବା,ବାର ବାର ଭେଟୁଥିବା, ସାଥି ହେଉଥିବାସାତ ଜନ୍ମ ପାଇଁ!ସବୁ ଜନ୍ମ ପାଇଁ! !ଇଏ ହେବ ମିଳନ ରସର୍ବ ଶେଷ ବାର,ମନ-ମନ, ଦେହ-ଦେହପ୍ରାଣ-ପ୍ରାଣ, ଆତ୍ମା-ଆତ୍ମା଼ଏକାଠି ହେବାର ।।।
In the dead of night
Unrecognized skeletons found locked inside.