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Ananya Bhaskar Quote - Death is the mercy of life on us.

Death is the mercy of life on us.

Related Topics

Death Life Mercy Ourselves

Bagwalas

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

She is handpicked by nature to bleed. Look, how she makes pain bow down and plead.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Blood Herself Inspirational Nature Pain
He looks up in the sky. I count stars in his eyes.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Count Eyes Himself Sky Stardom
Your lips taste a lot like petrichor, on my rainy days.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Days Lips Rain Taste Yourself
We were so close that I almost mistook it forever.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Break Up Close Forever Mistake Myself
He killed her autumn with his cherry blossom smile.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Autumn Himself Kill Smile
Exist so loud that even if you die tonight, your deeds illuminate like stars.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Death Existence Illumination Loud Night Stardom
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
She was hidden, drenched in darkness. He held her hand and called her luna.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Call Darkness Hands Herself Hide
I wanted peace, they gave me silence.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Myself Peace Silence
Love to the fullest. Either you’ll live for eternity or die as a poet.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Forever Full Live Love Poet Yourself
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 can see heaven or earth in her pupils when she’s smiling, and happy for real.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Earth Eyes Happiness Heaven Reality Smile
Darling, do not teach your stars to shine. Teach them how to embrace the darkness.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Darkness Embrace Shine Stars Teaching Yourself
You left my home and suddenly I was homeless.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Break Up Home Myself
A poet is the most beautiful poem, never read out loud by anyone.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Beautiful Poem Poet Reading
Music is a weed, we all fallen souls are high on.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Drugs Fall Music Soul

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