of his house
like a ragged kite
of the wind
January is here
the silent winter
upon them
but like screams
of broken clay
she is scattered
at his gate.
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खुले नीले आस्मां तले हवा ने अपने पंख खोले और तुम्हारी मुस्कान से चले एक राह निकली है मुझतक तुम्हारे ... -
At night at night you're not here at night at night you're not here any more than day at night you're not here no more do I dre... -
A brick is made of earth and therefore it has no independent existence. It's existence is derived from the earth itself. The brick is th...
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