By Tisha Vyas
I want to be the sunshine
creasing away your darkness
Solely, as my only motive
she always says,
The world is mere as beautiful,
neglecting her gloomy nights
portraying those melancholic feelings
in the form of tunes
her existence is akin to the ocean,
as enchanting, as alluring like her
the unbound beauty
implying a sense of comfort
and tranquillity
The creator of art,
oh, so lovely would it to be her muse
around him, she used to be a free bird
flying above the ocean
adoring creatures from the top
nature, she lives by
underlying the moss
A beautiful sensation of the moisty grass,
this is my forever home, my peace
Folklore was her solace
The ember skies, the spark of thunder
winds rising whispering something magical
that’s how she was, as mesmerizing
as the moon.
By Tisha Vyas
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