And a night is no more beautiful than dwelled with a mad river surrounded by creaking, swaying trees, extorting, plundering insanity and a rainy lullaby.
I’m cold and sour sometimes; sometimes ostensibly fleecy like snow. Drowning sometimes under the veneer of memories while sometimes swaying over the ocean all alone. Sometimes I run away to defy these hollow conventions and then being pulled back again with my laborious soul.
I am starving severely for love at moments and sometimes crave for not being adored anymore. Sometimes preaching morality is my utmost desire and sometimes I’m cruelest the most.
I am neither good nor bad; I am lost somewhere in between. I am lost somewhere in between.
You always believe, it’s the heart that’s wrongdoer
It’s it that keeps beating and leads you to take a torturous ride?
It’s it that shudders you and keep pinning all the time?
It’s it that reminds you all the bad and carry all the pain.
No, it’s not the heart that’s culprit.
It’s your mind that you’re in battle with!
It’s it that keeps reminding you all and keeps you up at nights.
It’s it that peels off all the wounds and does not let you heal.
It’s it that’s you need to convince, and it’s it that needs to be fixed.