Inner Demeanor

Vaghawan Ojha
Jul 10, 2017 · 1 min read
Image Source : here

In your darkest hour,
She springs,
From the depth of the gloomy clouds,
Which have shaded your life,
And show you a wading light,
From the morass of your suffering,
You try to fully open your eyes,
To see her,
And she will be already gone,
Like the spring’s thunderstorm,
Piercing the field of winter’s memory,
She does have shattered your barren heart,
But with painful love,
She does have erased your stark memories,
But with hers,
And you don’t even wonder,
Which one is more precious,
The forgotten or begotten,
Either way,
She is a thunderstorm,
But with love,
Which have shattered your heart,
Without any finite supremum of havoc;


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Painted With Words

Poetry, painted poignant, random metaphors, morphing emotions, bleeding heart, wounding soul, emerging love, emananting light, warm moon, cold nights, any sonnets, or any thoughts that you want to paint with words.

Vaghawan Ojha

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A drop of water you could see that dumbly awaits in vain to spill and be a stream:Alas there is a sunshine For More: http://www.thecreativeroad.com/blog/stories

Painted With Words

Poetry, painted poignant, random metaphors, morphing emotions, bleeding heart, wounding soul, emerging love, emananting light, warm moon, cold nights, any sonnets, or any thoughts that you want to paint with words.

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