A narrative told in the infinite galaxy of colors that melt into white and, brushstrokes bourne upon land who are titled ‘human beings’.
DEEPALI SINGHVIA narrative told in the infinite galaxy of colors that melt into white and, brushstrokes bourne upon land who are titled ‘human beings’.
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe spikes of the cactus which grows in my heart, are alike the water lilies that only bloom in the dark.
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe sensation of the sunshine sparkles my eyelids from time to time.
DEEPALI SINGHVILike 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 SINGHVIStitched with the bemused threads of reality our brains suffer from practicality, a mystic story edited to be a mystery.
DEEPALI SINGHVITruth never ages-old, It is as deep as the universe.
DEEPALI SINGHVIBreak 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 SINGHVIUnexpressed feelings reside in music that does not have lyrics, but feelings in rhythm!
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe state of nothingness ends, but the longing for it never does!
DEEPALI SINGHVIPetals and thorns grew hand in hand, realizing themselves, the oneness in them didn’t seem afar!
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe leaves shy and smile, of the laughter, when they see themselves – in the mirror of nature.
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe 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 SINGHVIMy love is like a trigonometry problem simplified by my heart’s mint green genies, the broken being in me sings a million epiphanies, my life is but colors spilled in polaroids of caring butterflies.
DEEPALI SINGHVIThoughts in bottles battled and shattered the glass of their containers, which floated in the ocean like a sun made of diamonds.
DEEPALI SINGHVIProhibited from plucking my bluebell emotions, my non-existent existence keeps kindling the aroma of my love.
DEEPALI SINGHVIThe 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