The moon is clear in transparent sky,And clouds close the stars silver dust,Cool air fills my bosom in the night,And I feel that my love is passing by,
Something had broken. Something inside of her had snapped. She felt like she was the ghost of the girl that she used to be.
This is a story of a mirror. It is said that a mirror reflects real picture but not always. This is story of the period when a country is divided into two parts
I am exact; precise.Faithful-and proud.I bare you,just as you are.My judgement-cold,too true;unaffected-by my love,Or your fear.
One day a very beautiful, fair, pretty princess, appeared in Raja’s Dorbar. She told her name to be Swarnamala. Raja absolutely stunned and mum by her beauty
“When a girl expresses her love for a man, he comes to thinking that he owns her. And No girl would want to be owned. She would love to be loved. Not owned…”
I don’t know of any poets, Whose words I can quote, From memory, Nor as worthy of some note; I don’t wish to hold a quill, Dipped in archaic blue ink
Short Story with moral lesson: In every classic fiction I had read people succeed in life by themselves. They had to work hard alone. They lead a lonely life.