Sloppy chestnuts of nostalgia in the yarns of effort.
I am stumbling on my way of floaty glumly situation, Where it still allows me to reach up to the surface which is dipped in the swash of wear and tear. Its color shows the scenario of let it go and let it be, which is quiet distressing.
Being helpless, I do see there is scope for creating and enkindling the finely art of poetry, which has an ongoing unitedly sporting endurance.
I feel amazed about how the faithfulness rewards one person with the relievedly form of calmness.
It has the wind of dance which admires you to the core of encomiums and paeans. It is also very keen to hug you tenderly.
Please help! I don't wish to be in the deep end of their blurredly bawls. I want you to grasp my hand and continue holding it.
