“I do!” I really do! We decided to be together All I want is you and me up until the end Promise that I’ll be faithfully sweet. Bitterness in life, we’ll surpass it my dear. Misfortunes do come! I’m not scared! I’ll face lengthy waves for you my ever love! Ready to take risks whatever happens… I always do! Treasure everything ever since I wore this ring We’ll keep good memories in front of sunset Sleeping on a soft bed until we’ll get old I’ll love you even the world changes its wind You and I will die soon my love. But our love we’ve ever shared will never die
Reality is something that you can hardly deal with. Reality sucks! Maybe it's rare for someone having no worries and troubles in life.For the last 10 years of my life, I began writing fictional stories and poems. I write stories which are little bit exaggerated and unreal. I must say that they are product of my wildest imagination.However, I write poems about people. I started to write poems ever since I was high school. Whenever I meet people, I write poems about them. I'm a well reserved person who can't tell things constantly. I think that one of the best ways of expressing my thoughts is through writing and share it here in this websiteThese poems describe the spectacular craziness and real experiences with people around me. It's about different roller coaster emotions about fake and real people. This is a collection of my poems of love, hatred and sarcasm...To my haters, friends, loved ones and to the most special someone in my life...I am dedicating this for you..."Spend 5 minutes with me and I'll write something about you..."
“What is it that makes you flabbergasted, my dear mortal? This isn’t for the first time you’ve been throttled by the fear of demise” says the death angel while ripping apart my bones. “Why am I still remain, to you,
What would happen on the day When death tinkers in your life This thought might recoil once It turns a ‘men’ into ‘corpse’ I soliloquy kith will pretending of regret by flowing false tears Several examine you by discussing your
11 There is living after death, there is death before life, Ordinary living which is in scrambles of destituteness, Destituteness of idealism, of knowledge meaningful, of utter candidness. Dull realities of weeds, weeds of rampant ignorance, averment Of void words,