Categories:

My reflections on existence

In the Mistry of existence makes me wonderstruck. Living, dying, or lost love. Like a dream that fades away on awaking…… life evolves from us sometimes….. suddenly… so suddenly we turn to a pot of ashes in our beloveds hands. Or left into 6 feet depth & width to be merged in earth.

My soul, traveling through… the paths of stress. really want to reach the meadows of tranquility

Know not from whom do I come from? Or where i am going

The poem written by mother

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.