“May your lips convey, what your heart has buried in.- A one-sided lover”

Work on yourself only when you want to, & not when you are expected to change, to fit in a unit society.

You don’t miss them, you miss the version of them, scripted in your mind. Maybe it’s time for you, to change the actor of your story.

City light appears as stars on the ground, but creates an illusion, of an ideal city that never existed, hides the dark & dusty secrets.

Eases our darkness into daylight. Oceans apart, but what remains the same, is our eyes gazing at the same moon.

They may seem like the perfect fit, for your incomplete puzzle. But they’re not the right piece.

Together now, new reside in the album of our gallery. People on this camera roll never came under the same roof again.

You’re like the number zero, you accept the position where the world puts you at. But, that same zero holds ten times more value, when placed at the right position.

I’m off to find what I’ve lost, in the darkness of love with a lantern in my hand. Just one more piece & my heart shall be fixed.

Memories are homes that I visit, to write the ending of an incomplete story. As it forever stays constant, when people leave.

Hidden in the ashes, of a fallen building lays a child’s family photo, with whom he could never unite in life.

Maybe one day, I will reach the shore just in time before I let people’s opinions drown me in the ocean of my mind.

They may seem like the perfect fit, for your incomplete puzzle. But they’re not the right piece.

You need to be broken, to let the rays of hope in. Every broken piece can be fixed, it’s the glue that has to settle in, let time do its magic.

As a child, I loved playing hide & seek, but now it seems like I’ve been lost for a long, & no one is looking for me.

Forgetting is power, & not a weakness. For if we could never forget how would our wounds ever heal.

Uniting two strangers over a warm sip at the right coffee shop, & the perfect time. Coffee in a way acts as a cupid.

You have no idea how life-giving it is to find around one a youth that agrees not to bury one on the spot.

Christianity … that musty old theology, which already has its grave clothes on, and is about to be buried… A wall of Bible, brimstone, church and corruption has hitherto hemmed women into nothingness.

But somewhere within each of us, buried at varying depths depending on the age and degree of neglect or abuse, shame or coercion we endured, there is a resistant, daydreaming, rebellious, creative, unique child — a true self who is waiting.

Far must thy researches go Wouldst thou learn the world to know; Thou must tempt the dark abyss Wouldst thou prove what Being is; Naught but firmness gains the prize, Naught but fullness makes us wise, Buried deep truth e’er lies.

When the truth get’s buried deep beneath a thousand years of sleep, time demands a turnaround.. And once again the truth is found.

Every man should keep a fair-sized cemetery in which to bury the faults of his friends.

Money is the root of all evil. Yeah, money is the root. It’s not racism and “this-ism” and “that-ism”; it’s our thirst and hunger for money. And that’s where all the bodies are buried.

Look inside yourself and you’ll find the answers that you’ve been searching for. It’s not buried in the opinions of anyone else.