The velvet veins running through my deep-colored wings sing blues, remembering the non-existent maple memories, lighting up my heart’s frosty rays.
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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Nothing was trying to hurt me, except my own thoughts, which felt like needles, trying to stitch tears within my eyes.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Unexpressed feelings reside in music that does not have lyrics, but feelings in rhythm!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Coping with love’s aftertaste, my fractal feelings sprint in haste, my mellow neurons transmit tears, like a cascade of caramel latte.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Tied to worldly illusions, our sight is but a painted vision.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The state of nothingness ends, but the longing for it never does!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
The sensation of the sunshine sparkles my eyelids from time to time.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Prohibited from plucking my bluebell emotions, my non-existent existence keeps kindling the aroma of my love.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Truth never ages-old, It is as deep as the universe.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Fear not the devil’s darkness which you thought of as moonlight, Fear not, the waves knotted within your heart, which crashes onto your eyes waterline, there? Yes there! In that illusion exists you.
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 -
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 -
Petals and thorns grew hand in hand, realizing themselves, the oneness in them didn’t seem afar!
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
My heart isn’t a song of silver and gold, it holds a million graves of solitary souls.
DEEPALI SINGHVI -
Santa sobs recalling December’s decor, navigating joys volcano, overcoming dawns of insomnia, waking the snowflakes to find, yearlong sleep, which delightfulness sneaks!
DEEPALI SINGHVI