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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

Truth never ages-old, It is as deep as the universe.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Deep Old Philosophy Truth
Nothing was trying to hurt me, except my own thoughts, which felt like needles, trying to stitch tears within my eyes.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Except Eyes Feeling Hurt Myself Tears Try
Eddying towards my zero points four mystery misted pens naked nib, the stars splash starlight ridden waves, on my ever-circling emotions.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Emotion Mystery Stars
The glass is broken into particles that now accept themselves as art.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Acceptance Art Break Piece
The sensation of the sunshine sparkles my eyelids from time to time.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Eyes Myself Sun Time Touch
The infinite ceiling of my dainty delicate dreams makes me see the wise world where my heart belongs.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Delicate Dream Heart Myself Wisdom
Time stops for the heart to tick-tock!
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Heart One Liner Stop Time
Sometimes the sun shies away, from how the ocean slays, and the ocean keeps its promise, to slay until it sees the sunrays!
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Deep Ocean Promise Shy Sun
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

Cry Fantasy Overcome
Add the frozen dreams, to the passionate flavor, in you and there you are, having the best of you!
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Best Dream Inspirational Passion Yourself
Petals and thorns grew hand in hand, realizing themselves, the oneness in them didn’t seem afar!
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Acceptance Flower Hands Oneself
The 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 SINGHVI

Day Flower Myself Philosophy
A narrative told in the infinite galaxy of colors that melt into white and, brushstrokes bourne upon land who are titled ‘human beings’.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Human Space Story
Stitched with the bemused threads of reality our brains suffer from practicality, a mystic story edited to be a mystery.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Mystery Reality Story Suffering
Prohibited from plucking my bluebell emotions, my non-existent existence keeps kindling the aroma of my love.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Emotion Existence Love Myself
Tied to worldly illusions, our sight is but a painted vision.
DEEPALI SINGHVI

Deep Illusion Ourselves Philosophy Vision World

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.

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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.

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