Poetry

Agony.

Agony is much more than pain.

It’s more than displeasure.

It is that truth,

Which twists and turns one heart.

The internal pain which rips one’s heart out,

Is agony.

It is that pain,

Which can’t be subsided by giving a red, yellow or white rose.

Agony,

Happens when one has nearly exhausted all of his/ her resources,

To heal or cure himself or herself.

But the only thing which can heal it is true love.

And the wait for it is truly agonizing.

If you are lucky enough then,

God’s love may touch your heart,

And remove all your agony.

Agony isn’t pain, displeasure or sadness.

It’s yourself,

But in pain, displeasure or sadness.

Adios!

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A Rose.

A rose,

Makes my day.

A rose,

Gives us bliss.

It keeps us happy,

And we spend our day in all greatness.

A rose,

Is God’s creation,

His gift on mankind.

A rose in a pocket looks beautiful,

It looks better in a vase.

Offer it to Lord most beautiful,

And be happy.

I, Ma and Baba, offer it to Lord Saibaba,Lord Meher Baba and to Lord Shiva.

Adios!