A cold breeze; yet to turn into a fog mildly swept amidst bountiful garden the flowers hushed; 'winter is coming' they gaze for sun, nowhere to be found dense sky; filled with cotton clouds seldom drizzling, tears of pure love; enthralling the flowers, that doze off, until the curtains are raised by sunrise and wake-up call by the chirping cuckoos the flowers in the frost, live another day. (07/10/2015, Paris)
I see the light on the horizon yet to find the ushering sun I stand at the sea coast; gazing unfazed by cold wind of despair Should I wait patiently for sun to arise or dare to swim until I've the sighting of it Is the destiny predetermined or left for us to make our own Time is slipping away but not my spirit and hope Enough of this darkness Let there be light (12th Jan 2015, Paris)
Wow very Nice! but seems short. Can you add more to it?
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