Poetry

Nameless

Love so pure, that cannot be digressed,

It opens up with vastness and caress, there are no agendas, no feelings of unrest.

No person, no thing, nothing to express or caress or digest.

It is the purest of all, and yet it has no form, just a rhythm and vibration, a fragrance, Yet! 

 It was a no ‘Thing’ from the pure, to the heart that implored to be free from the binds, that told her the lies of the life that she led…

 

 

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