Poetry is what surrounds you, the air you breath, the the golden sunset you see, the chirping birds you hear, yet the wind that blows off your clothes such that we see your naked mind.
Popular Posts
-
They heaved me up in a dank cell They tortured me, squeezed my eyes Oh God it was hell My only crime being drank and disorderly Along Ko...
-
Abandoned midst the reeds Placed in an orphanage of bulrushes Its after whom A nation rallies Much unlike other babies From the annals ...
-
Crime is what defines my status My AK 47 is my dearest apparatus Boys in blue masquerade as my haters Yet in the ...
Well. Well. Dear simon. 'Call from hell'. An Awakening one, alerting not to go wrong route. An eternal lyric. A simply great Profile and fascinatingly reflecting template. Thanking You for sharing and with Best Wishes.
ReplyDeleteThanks alot Ifinder for visiting my blog, you are welcome to be my follower, this is just the dawn of a long literary day so come along with me.
ReplyDelete