It is the call of the sky When the wind hints its return Deeply as I watch the clouds The colours slowly emerge The painting
I want to sit in your lap And talk for hours About you and me Away from the cacophony Of the enchanted crowd My relation with you Was deemed to
When you are surrounded by a cumulus of depression and engulfed by inner turmoil, the slightest of fluctuations can derail you from your main path. I was sitting In the sunlight
It had been days It had been months Since when I talked to me. It had been troubles It had been sorrows Which never let
You are meant for changes that bother, sometimes, a dead end doesn’t let me go further. Still, you teach, you give lessons of utter significance,