Spin spin spin I spin my web.. Snip snip snip I snip every old thread.. You spin I spin that is all we do. I am hanging where you once hung, This patch is mine now, now I sew. You snipped my mesh one day and craft your own wall. I am a spinner and you are one No sins, we merely cushion our fall. Why shall I remain trapped in my world and you in yours. Let us spin a web together and trap everyone in ours. Why not bring all under one roof neither yours, nor mine, ally. Under one sky, as the earth continues to spin Let us spin for everyone, a whole new sky.
Once upon a time in the Garden of Eden there lived Adam and Eve in the shadow of an evil serpent, the evil in disguise whose jealousy introduced them to greed. Since our origin we have been breeding greed. As life began the wheel of greed turned to lead to the birth of more and more Homo sapiens day by day, every moment. The jealousy of the evil serpent remained veiled behind silence and formed the cause that sprouted as the sapling of greed in the heart of Eve. Greed is highly contagious like any other communicative disease and thereby spread to Adam and from then on wards to the generations that followed. Many a times greed gives rise to jealousy and quite often greed arises from jealousy. They both move on hand in hand as knives equally sharp and hurtful and are known to cause the death of many a conscience. The philosophy regarding the search for soul mates destined to meet is meant to adorn the parchments found at the back of the drawers of the poets but th...
For all my friends.. :) Thank you for gifting me a world of joy.. :) Do I bring you the joy that you gift me with every smile. The every dimple that dents ur face fills up my crevasses. The shadow of my clouds disappear in a while as your sunshine passes over me as the day passes. With the rocks on my path you build a bridge for me to cross over the stream of days crumpled. You are the change on the earth that in everyone I want to see the wind that has lifted me up whenever I stumbled. The twigs that I hold on to when the rough weather leaves my hand with which I build my nest to be cradled in. My springtime when I drift as an autumn leaf towards a forlorn land. Wherever the warmth of hope dies I know you begin.
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