is moving on its own
pace, that's
same,
breakage and weir's game,
some mellow pain in
the chest, some
eyes' sore,
or the
excuse to hide the emotion,
whatever, amid the two
points of joy and
sorrow, the
life
goes in its way, your love - -
is precious ring, even
lost of gem, it
reflects
with
eternal glow, you believe it
or not, it's true that the
true love never
dies, it
often
revives with new color and -
appearance, a delicate
but trustworthy bridge
is existed amid
us, and
that's
the ray of hope, which often
creates the meaning
of survival, the
peace of
mind
inhabited not on the bed of
roses, it searches
continuously
to love
unconditional, that's matter -
of destiny, that how
many reached
to the goal.
* *
- SHANTANU SANYAL
http://sanyalsworld.blogspot.com/
art by zacartisty
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