Its often been asked,
Why that flower choose to grow among the rocks,
Though the questions held the answer,
But one would love to burn itself in the fire of desire,
I chose the hard surfaces while looking for soft ones,
I chose the darkness while searching for light all along,
Things I searched for were walking all along with me,
But I didn't realise I was the one who wanted to play with fire,
With the desire to get burnt to become holy but the word sinner was already being engraved from where had I came,
All along I searched for water but at the end I choose to burn in fire.
YOU ARE READING
Tales Of Hopeless Romantics: Imperfect Poetic Journey Of Love And Life
Poetry"My love was as cruel as my nightmares, and it was as beautiful as my daydream, which never dare to turn itself into reality, neither did it ever ended like a daydream, the agony kept hanging me like that of half hope, the hope kept hanging me like...
