A women's life is of her own, This has always been, Someone else's world, not mine! A vivid imaginary of Sad solitude in man's world. It's a tumult of actions Dreams and turbulent moments, An eternal longing for Inexistent love and desire! A blast of burning air Suffocating, fatal place, I thought it as mine Which cut me at best Like a sharpened blade. From a distant silence I grow like a plain, old bird, Who is never meant to be free! ~ Natasa
Stories That Matter- Simple and Informative
Sharing & Connecting the World With Personal Stories. Personal Blog to Find Out Stories, Facts & Tips for Happy Living, Culture, Food, People & Great Places in one place.