Time was ,as always, a great healer, but the marks from the scars were still glowing. She was like an iris , that wanted to bloom up to the kisses of dawn. But She became a black cosmos. that never bloomed up to the day , but withered to the touches of dusk.
- Priyam
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River of Thoughts
Poesíaour mind is like a river, flows constantly, anywhere , everywhere and even dries up sometimes. this book contains my poems, quotes, stupid rambling , thoughts etc. its just a glimpse inside my head. everything wrote in the book is original and i...
