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The walk to find the true meaning of life

The world is my home and everyone living here is family. Beauty lies not in pretty face but in a beautiful soul, everyone gets confused in this anomaly. We must have faith in our abilities and allow it to get unfurled. It only takes one" Thomas Edison" to invent electric bulb and transform the world. Then began my search to find out the purpose I took birth and life's true meaning. I found the answer I have to make a life to inspire others, that will guide them and help seek the right path, don't get satisfied with a mere living. Give something worthwhile to this world which would help allev
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Tale of One Silly Cock

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Amidst an enormous cycle of pla

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UNTANGLED

UNTANGLED
 
 
“Please let my hair grow, Mother, don’t cut it.
A trimmed tree
Is no place for song birds.”
                                     -Anonymous: Landeys
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How can I Walk Away?


I could never walk away from you

Everything I feel is real
I search within each day to find
When we meet it was revealed
How can I walk away?
I feel you each and everyday
My heart, mind and soul are bound
Now my dreams are real
I see you in my thoughts
Reality I now feel
How can I walk away?
I feel you each and everyday
My world has begaun to change
Nothing else feels so right
The very day I met you
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The Dismal Throng

The Fairy Tale of Life is done,
The horns of Fairyland cease blowing,
The Gods have left us one by one,
And the last Poets, too, are going!
Ended is all the mirth and song,
Fled are the merry Music-makers;
And what remains? The Dismal Throng
Of literary Undertakers!

Clad in deep black of funeral cut,
With faces of forlorn expression,
Their eyes half open, souls close shut,
They stalk along in pale procession;
The latest seed of Schopenhauer,
Born of a Trull of Flaubert's choosing,
They cry, while on the ground they glower,
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The First Day

( RENAISSANCE .)

The morrow came; and, when the sun was high,
Beneath a silken awning rosy-hued
Sat Barbara, smiling on her happy court;
The Graces near her, Midas at her side,
And all the Sciences and all the Arts,
In decent black or motley summer suits,
Gathered around her; modern Muses too,
From Sappho Syntax in her spectacles
To Jennie Homespun, Clapham's idyllist,
Called " Wordsworth's daughter" by the small reviews.
Nor lacked we grace of stately company
From Sappho Syntax in her spectacles
Which turn the small beer of the Senate sour:
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A Dirge For Kings

Strange are the bitter things
God wreaks on cruel Kings;
Sad is the cup drunk up
By Kings accurst.
In secret ways and strong
God doth avenge man's wrong.
The least, God saith, is Death,
And Life the worst.

Sit under the sweet skies;
Think how Kings set and rise,
Think, wouldst thou know the woe
In each proud breast?
Sit on the hearth and see
Children look up to thee—
Think, wouldst thou own a throne,
Or lowly rest?

Ah, to grow old, grow old,
Upon a throne of gold—
Ah, on a throne, so lone,
To wear a crown;
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