In the oldest days, with all these days
They're making room for blessings,
Spend nights sleeping in the shade of haze
With all these days, In oldest days
Quintessence in one's blood,
A gift from earth from skies above
To sojourn in this quixotic world,
Guided by an impalpable merle
The apple doesn't fall far from the tree
They navigate thee from falling free;
So if they have a daughter—to save her in emotional torture,
But she follows the cruel fate
Hence, they can't run to undo this mistake
Only if they give her a break.
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The Amorist's Magnum Opus (A Poem Collection)
PoetryDepending on the path that we walk through and the way we understand every single step that we take on it. There are various ways that we give meaning and deal with love and life. Consequently, it shows that the odyssey of experience is obviously no...
