A person who lived it up in his youth dies in old age in misery.

If the path is beautiful, think about the destination it leads to. Conversely, ignore the path if the destination is worthy.

They sprang to mind.
They came.
They acted strangely.
They courted strangers.

After hearing your words, I feel relieved. I am not responsible for your misunderstanding of me.

drab world.
Life's wheels are moving backwards.
Dreams are buried in graveyards.
Conflict and war enslave freedom.
A raging sea and a reckless fire consume the hate-filled land.  
Remorseless, greedy humans are hunting for heaven in the ruins of their own civilisation.

A poet is like a bee without wings that uses its imagination to sting nature, **** its beauty, and serve it as poetry to everyone.

Ask God to grant you the blessing of not only getting everything you want, but also of remaining content with them till the end of your life.

Be neutral to events, just like a wall calendar.

A lovely melody of life is created when the song in the mind and the perfect beat in the heart unite.

A quick descent into madness.
A reckless error in judgement.
No turning back the hands of fate.

Ironies nested together in one place.

It seems we have slipped from a dream to a nightmare.

When left undisturbed, a disturbed  mind and water become clearer.

Enough means happiness.

When faced with challenges,
humans cry but animals try.

A war has no robes to hide itself.

The letter you wrote for me has arrived. It's wet. I'm not sure what made it wet—your tears or the rain that poured along the way. It cannot be read. But I'm curious which of my two conclusions would please you.

I want to theorise life in concrete terms, but I'm not sure where to begin. The beginning appears to have never happened, yet the end seems tantalisingly close. I don't understand, really.

Are we living or leaving life?

The agony is terminable, but not the feelings created by it.

Blinded by desires. 
Scuttled by reasons.
A constant poke from consciousness. 
The mind is on a constant spin.

Even though I have been conversing with my mind for a very long time, we are still not friends.

Where is the injustice if he who begets is born?

Thoughts in fermentation.
The poetic kettle is bursting with an invigorating brew.

My ego is weeping for you,
While my soul is praying for you.

You are the empty space that exists inside a fossilised memory.

Poetry is the light that transcends life and death.

Everything, excluding your unlicensed smile, is gloomy.

The time since taking in the breath of life has passed considerably.

To keep ourselves afloat in the abyss of dead experiences has been a difficult battle.

It's time to inject some life and jolts of action into our flagging spirits.

Shall we plunge into a brew of furious spirits that are waiting to devour us?

Life is a poetic song with a common finale.

How beautiful those days were, when we sat together and shared our sorrows and joys.Life's simplicity had bound our hearts together, and happiness was engrained in it. Only remembrance makes us feel the joy of it now, though not totally.

The emptiness that we don't feel.

Life is a monotonous drill.

You will fabricate yourself if you don't believe in the truth.

Delusory steps.
A Delusory fall.
A Delusory pain.
A Delusory suffering.

Let it go.

Faith is powerless to quell the sour memories of the past where the shadow of people also burns.

Where truth is rife, life is heaven.

Just noise, we humans.

Freedom is rendered invisible where truth is feared.

Even if it may be fleeting, a smile is a valuable service to humanity.

When humans conspire with death out of disgust for coexisting, peace becomes a trash in society's back yard.

Recycled thoughts frequently burst through mental cracks. Unpleasant recollections flood the mind.
Self-defeated souls' shadows are still menacingly following. The waves of the long-contained bitter memories crash into life, unexpectedly. Without  a worthy reason, the present becomes the past.

It lies within your heart; do not look for the treasure of peace elsewhere. You'll discover it if you seek.

Filled with delight.
There were no obvious causes.
Around me, it felt like joy was everywhere.
Life seemed straightforward for a moment.
I know these feelings are ephemeral, though, deep down.
But it is difficult to understand why we sometimes feel such jolts of emotion.

Poetry is the voice of my soul.

We are all tiny bits of a single, ever-expanding melody.