This is the land of learned fools
In the name of belief superstition rules
Lords were slay God were the same
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Sunk fragrance of the smile of the Buddha u enforces me to dissolve into his deep eyes....
The thorns of the blowing time
fascinates me to nurture the bud within me....
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Slapped flowers yearn for fragrance of its own; enduring the exploitation of its mother-soil.......
Water often rapes the budslure for beauty and being.....
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I travel by ¦ such a bus
travelers pompous ¦ at every station
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What you imagine is the reality for you so trillions of realities should exist here
although poetry is one of the tools to reveal truth while reality and truth may be different
or different realities and truths would be there. The reality is still remained a question that reality is real or imagination is
or
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If you want to kill someone
Don't use any weapon to destroy him
If you really want to kill someone
Don't enforce him to be frightened
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Nature anguishes to calm human(e)with shouting serene.
Sere humanities also don't come for tranquility.
Even no one dare to listen a clear and true murmur of peace.
The busy rationalisms enjoy nature on youtube and be cathartic in paintings of nature as well.
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By the hope of rain
Her lampblack lines be wetted
with ample steam.
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The breeding of being satisfied
in servitudes really works here.
Glee-provider subjections
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