The lonely soul : Enchanting the beauty of pain and suffering.

The lonely soul : Enchanting the beauty of pain and suffering.

How can I describe pain when I am no longer aware of my existence?

How can I embrace suffering when it betrayed its beloved companion?

How can I cross this passage of the wild storm penetrated into the cracks of my existing wounds?

I feel so lonely as if there is no one in this world and nothing to get rid of this loneliness.
I sense no feelings left in my memory. I am no longer belong to myself.

However, I understand the true essence of things.

Hence, I conclude pain is the masculine and the depth of its suffering is the mother of feminine.
Both of their beauties are enchanted and gracefully buried in the graves of mystical Indian lands.

Yours poet,

Naveen Bommakanti.

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