O cute little Blue bird!
Sing me life
Take me to the caves
To an untold era
Under a stormy night
I shall learn to light a fire
A lamp is awaiting me
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Death—premature or likely, accidental or natural—always leaves an impervious void in souls of those near ones where gentle tunes of ...
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Where, so far and afar, does my soul wander in pursuit of Those tunes of thy flute that lets the breeze moan? Where does to an alien plac...
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This is a repost originally published two years back on the 35th death anniversary of my dear mom.... "Mother, I shall weave a chain...
There's a deep-rooted longing for escape here. I noticed something similar in the last post of yours too.
ReplyDeleteMuch appreciated.
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