Clay cup once fallen down , she nurtured with her tears showered the pieces with hope , and filled the cracks with her affection And outlined a bewitching soul . Her features changes but she remains the same .
Paint me black and I'm still breathing Paint me white and I'm still gazing At the healing of promising walls & Chopped wires whilst billion calls
Don't count the pain , count on aids Cause I'm mirror today admiring your shades You ain't the flower , hailing to fade Taste a cup of world , which I'd made
No more vertices , the corners are cuts Drop-down a Poaceae and a fist designing huts No jute , no rope , just half sinked voice acts as nuts Not a poetical but paradise exists betwixt and bygone ifs and buts.