“Without you, my heart will be full of weeds.”

It’s unconditional; their chemistry is unconditional – forever.

Poetry is a pleasure to your pressure.

I never understood flowers until I met you.

Fall is the rise.

At times being oblivious keeps me more alive in this chaos.

You hit the soft spot of me making my heart skip a beat.

You are my tamed fire in the wind.

Poetry is a home, a home with joy.

No pain no worries only the beating of our hearts.

If I had wings and could fly I’d fly all seas to see your unseen beauty amid the whispers of love.

Everything seems to be a design – a mixture of prejudice and injustice – the limbo of silence.

We love to live with sweet lies until reality touches the edges, of those sweet lies.

Into you, like the sun embraces the moon – a beautiful eclipse.

Loneliness is an art shaped by self-love.

We all bound by beauty with a touch of singularity.

Just realized that moonlight was just a matchmaker for the stars.

I worry there is something broken in our generation, there are too many sad eyes on happy faces.

I separated someplace for each person in my heart, But she claimed to be the owner of it.

I feel your absence deeply within my heart because we are already, and almost apart.

I write from my heart, perhaps that’s why my words often bleed.

How can this warm heart treat me so cold?

Modern-day love stories are born not out of love, but a tired mind and a restless heart.

Every lover is, in his heart, a madman, and, in his head, a minstrel.

I can cheat my heart, soul, and mind. If you become my life.