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Ananya Bhaskar Quote - Music is a weed, we all fallen souls are high on.

Music is a weed, we all fallen souls are high on.

Related Topics

Drugs Fall Music Soul

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

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’re a flower, the universe has given to the nature to profess its love.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Flower Love Nature Universe
He looks up in the sky. I count stars in his eyes.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Count Eyes Himself Sky Stardom
Her aura was warm and I was a naive sunflower, leaning towards her.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Aura Flower Herself Myself Sunflower Warm
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
Love to the fullest. Either you’ll live for eternity or die as a poet.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Forever Full Live Love Poet Yourself
She is handpicked by nature to bleed. Look, how she makes pain bow down and plead.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Blood Herself Inspirational Nature Pain
And the biggest irony is you spend a lifetime finding someone to love and then die learning how to unlove them.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Big Finding Irony Learning Life Love Time Yourself
Its alright darl, moon is also alone in the crowd of stars.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Alone Crowd Moon Stardom
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
Night is a song, moon and sad people can sing along.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Moon Night People Sadness Sing Song
Music is a weed, we all fallen souls are high on.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Drugs Fall Music Soul
Worship her for the way she rolls her sleeves up and hums the silence of healing.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Healing Herself Silence Way Worship
When god created woman, he was introspecting himself after falling in love.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Creation Fall In Love God Introspect Woman
Poem is a phoenix, whose wings are painted in the colors of nostalgia.
ANANYA BHASKAR

Color Nostalgia Paint Phoenix Poem Wings
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

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