My thrown little gems sparkle as they shine,

My thrown narrow visions, cry as they cry.

My thrown past memories, hidden as they lost,

My thrown ditching remarks revenge as they can.

And the lines by my mind,

Shout words with mitigation.

They hear, they know, what these can,

And what my leads can prove for.

Deary, the helping verb of my lines,

Takes my hand and revolve me around.

Across the world, from prayers to heaven,

And return with dunes of happiness.

What legends these lines hold, I know not,

But the kisses of my heart gets a free flow, at last!

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Beg For Suspicion

Thy Strength


Yetesh Sharma