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Ananya Bhaskar Quote - Poem is a phoenix, whose wings are painted in the colors of nostalgia.

Poem is a phoenix, whose wings are painted in the colors of nostalgia.

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Color Nostalgia Paint Phoenix Poem Wings

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Marilyn Monroe Paulo Coelho Abraham Lincoln C. S. Lewis Khalil Gibran Charlie Chaplin Gautama Buddha Isaac Newton

You can see heaven or earth in her pupils when she’s smiling, and happy for real.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Earth Eyes Happiness Heaven Reality Smile
I hope my poem touches your soul and tickles your feet. As it is a river, river of my molten heartbeats.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Heartbeat Hope Poem River Touch
Her aura was warm and I was a naive sunflower, leaning towards her.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Aura Flower Herself Myself Sunflower Warm
Night is a song, moon and sad people can sing along.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Moon Night People Sadness Sing Song
Unlike our flesh and bones, our souls always share a common religion. The religion of art.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Art Bone Common Flesh Ourselves Religion Share Soul
Fear people who dare to walk with their chest open, despite of having a heart bruise by love.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Bruise Chest Fear Heart People Walk
You left my home and suddenly I was homeless.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Break Up Home Myself
When she’s drenched in agony and soaked in pain, her smile holds the art this world is dying to learn.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Agony Death Herself Hold Learning Pain Soak
Poetry is an eulogy, sung for hope and love.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Hope One Liner Poetry Sing
Rest your head on his shoulder more often. Earth blushes when a snowflake gently dozes off on it.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Earth Gentle Head Snow Yourself
I hope this pain never eases and these wounds never heal. That’s how you keep lingering in scars, underneath my skin.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Break Up Healing Hope Linger Pain Scars Skin Wound
After heartbreak, darling treat yourself with some sunset and poetry in a wine glass.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Break Up Heart Broken Poetry Treat Yourself
And then writer in you is so homesick of pain, that you plead your wounds to bleed and ache.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Ache Blood Home Sick Wound Writing Yourself
She’s never silent, you can always listen her soul speaking the tongue of poetry.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Herself Listening Poetry Silence Soul
Its alright darl, moon is also alone in the crowd of stars.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Alone Crowd Moon Stardom
A poet is the most beautiful poem, never read out loud by anyone.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Beautiful Poem Poet Reading

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