The Beauty of Human's Silence

After decades,

for first time,from my birth

on the journey to death,

I'm enjoying the landscape.

Without noise,

only the bird's babble

and wind's bubble

are the cause.

This is human's nature.

The landscape

denotes our shape

that we aren't mature.

Today's prospect

has arranged by humans.

The verse of Cuckoo's

say, this is for a day for success.

To chant the nature's verse,

to enjoy,how the Sun

is hiding behind the rush

have been given,Nature's my crush.

The waves with murmur

without pollution,

the orange leaves have caution.

Humans are the selfish dreamer.

The poem has written on the nature during the lockdown for COVID-19.The time is very crucial for everyone as the killer virus has beheaded more than 45K innocent lives.But the bitter truth is, nature is getting peace for the lockdown.

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Love quotes

Waiting for you gives me pain, Droplets of eyes shower like rain, The dreams for future gives peace, You shall put your head on my arm to walk with me lives. I miss. ---------------- Love isn't a four lettered word, It is the world. Love is not a game like chess, It is the God's grace. -------------------- Love lorn mad is me, Who has been waiting for your love drizzle. My only love is you, I am being ignored like a trifle. ------------------ Oh Dear! I am here, In wait of your, To say come closer, To get your love mere, To become your heart's near, My want is to become only your lover. ----------------- I make thousands of mistakes, I am admitting it. I irritate you thousands of time, I am accepting it. As I love to bring the smile on your face from angriness, I am telling it. ----------------- When you were near, I was ignoring you, Now, You are far, I am moaning for you. -----------...

Fame Is A Food That Dead Men Eat

Fame is a food that dead men eat, I have no stomach for such meat. In little light and narrow room, They eat it in the silent tomb, With no kind voice of comrade near To bid the banquet be of cheer. But friendship is a nobler thing; Of Friendship it is good to sing. For truly, when a man shall end, He lives in memory of his friend, Who doth his better part recall, And of his faults make funeral. By Henry Austin Dobson Follow us on Instagram- @unskilledwords Facebook - unskilledwords. Thank You.

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