The inner world of love is such as a meadow littered with wells
where we all fall into several pits of varying depths.
A few lead to a cave that pours into another
A few drop down for hours
while we get engulfed in our own screams.
We fall for another like time ceases to exist
but little do we know that not all wells are
tunnelled to interweave with another
Most of us get drenched in the spirits of another
who'd never really fathom the depth of well
we continue falling through.
At the call of the one who remember's their dead lover one is alive despite being dead the perishable body shall only hold onto a few years while the consciousness will continue for decades I shall ne
Staring at the ruined canvas with colours she detest and forms she'd never digest to view any longer, she slathered fresh hues to cover it like poetry on blacked out and struck out words on a rejected
let it flow through you, acknowledge it, the suffering shall also have place in your thoughts now Eventually will give root to wisdom and acceptance in the future which will nurture the calm and happi
