My heart isn’t a song of silver and gold, it holds a million graves of solitary souls.
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe velvet veins running through my deep-colored wings sing blues, remembering the non-existent maple memories, lighting up my heart’s frosty rays.
More Deepali Singhvi Quotes
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Coping with love’s aftertaste, my fractal feelings sprint in haste, my mellow neurons transmit tears, like a cascade of caramel latte.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Prohibited from plucking my bluebell emotions, my non-existent existence keeps kindling the aroma of my love.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Sometimes the sun shies away, from how the ocean slays, and the ocean keeps its promise, to slay until it sees the sunrays!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Truth never ages-old, It is as deep as the universe.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The nerves and the turns of time try to dial a smile-every another mile, of whiles and lives, but all they are prompted to is “non-reachable”, because of the route of the mind.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Time stops for the heart to tick-tock!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The state of nothingness ends, but the longing for it never does!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Break me, Break me, Break me until the broken cells of my mind become the glitter of your eyes! My shattered glass neurons have become your tears now.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The infinite ceiling of my dainty delicate dreams makes me see the wise world where my heart belongs.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Petals and thorns grew hand in hand, realizing themselves, the oneness in them didn’t seem afar!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Like a busy fairy smiling in its own melancholy on unending Friday nights, the loving wings of my realistic fantasies, spread themselves as wide as the sea.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
I was a glittering sea waving at me, like a child smiling in his father’s lap, the waves lapse every time the sea sees the child in me!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The day I know who I am, why and how is known of me, I will be me, Me: free from thorns and petals that go round and round, in heads and heels, and would reveal me, me indeed!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Nothing was trying to hurt me, except my own thoughts, which felt like needles, trying to stitch tears within my eyes.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The glass is broken into particles that now accept themselves as art.
DEEPALI SINGHVI