Shikha Singh - SEARCH

I’m longing for something, everybody longs for;
Roses between the Iron bars;
A cascade of stars in the icy lakes;
A lingering sweetness in the salty flakes.

Thorns seem sweet to me, as they are the truth;
Whence flowers standing at the top,
Appear to be mere dream booth.

The gifts that nature has provided are partially favoured;
Where dreams are sweet and reality bitterly flavoured.

Every minute drives us near to peace;
While every second tends to cease.

Shikha Singh

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