Beauty is not just a pretty face, it’s the glow from the heart that radiates.
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Strive for perfection along the road to excellence, avoiding the hazards of complacency and potholes of mediocrity.
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Words whisper o’er the breeze, they whisper when you read, they whisper to the heart when lovers are apart, but most of all words whisper when one says nothing at all.
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Determination is a propelling force that gets you going when others are dropping off. Little by little, an ant mounts a tree top. Slow and steady is it.
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“Betrayal leaves a stain, a shadow on the heart.” from the poem “Betrayal” by Max Burchett
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“Some say, and believe, bad luck lurks in threes.” from the poem “Triad of Troubles” by Maxwell Burchett
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“Triple, triple superstition whispers, simple destiny.” from the poem “Triad of Troubles” by Max Burchett
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“Bad luck, they say, unfolds in a three-act play…“ from the poem “Triad of Troubles” by Maxwell Burchett
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“Three and three, fates agree, bad fortune looms, dooms in trinity.” from the poem “Triad of Troubles” by Maxwell Sebastian Burchett
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If it is good, it worths pursuing. If it is divine, it worths waiting for. It may seem far, keep following it; never give up. With God, every little step leads you to your destiny.
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The many threads of opportunity, may be woven by one's talent, or their desire, into a tapestry complete.
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Knit the life with your choice of threads. Choose the designs n patterns very scrupulously coz that's your most creative creation. It's not all that difficult to make it a legacy.
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Chatni ko chat chat kar sawad lainay walay kabhi karelay ka karwahat chakha hai Pagal khanay?
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Behrae murder me gotay laganay walay tun kia janay nehar darya jungle ka sawad Pagal khanay.
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there are times when my word was filled with hate and anger.
I am still in those times.
I have demoted these concepts to the outline of my poetry, instead of the words.
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"Your words sometimes reflect your stress,Anger and Anxiety but action should be wisely or else you will lose close people like I made some people hate me yet if you produce your worth and creativity through struggle and then success, Well this can be your chance to get them back with you"
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Tun Mera Behan say shadi karta to me hota tera sala,
Bhai Zindagi rawan dawan hai makri bana Rahi Jala.
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Bund me pechay say danda Daina bura baat larna hai to time batao date batao shooter ka name waldiyat or address bhi Batao plz.
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Kabhi bhi Kisi nihatay par hamla NAHI karo jab agla ready ho asliha say lais ho phir us Kay Sath face to face laro,Zafar sala Peth pechay say bund mein danda Daina Galat.
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Be like a lotus flower, open your petals to let go of fear and sadness.
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Love cradles Sorrow for a while, comforting it in its arms, stroking it like a pet to be controlled, adored and loved, until Love realises that Sorrow needs free range to express itself. Eventually like all wild things, Sorrow needs to be released, to be transformed into something higher and more hauntingly beautiful. (Leanne Lovejoy-Burton as LadyLabyrinth)
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Love opens the door to and for Sorrow. The choice is Sorrow’s direction. Of course, interpretation is also poetically open, dear Poet. From observation, like Love, Sorrow adores company, like Love, Sorrow is not averse to sharing its cage with numbers of other Sorrows, all requiring to be fed, they eventually have their fill and leave, spreading their wings for Lighter realms.(Leanne Lovejoy-Burton as LadyLabyrinth)
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Love invites Sorrow in, to feed its hunger, quench its thirst...Sorrow has been sorely deprived of succour and unconditional nurture in most states of distress, sadness, betrayal, rejection, hurt, loss, grief (are only but a few called by name)...when Sorrow is well fed, and transfiguring into its better, higher lighter form, the captive/s eventually are let loose - it is Sorrow's choice of course, whether Sorrow stays or goes. (Leanne Lovejoy-Burton as LadyLabyrinth)
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Love cradles Sorrow for a while, comforting it in its arms, stroking it like a pet to be controlled, adored and loved, until Love realises that Sorrow needs free range to express itself. Eventually like all wild things, Sorrow needs to be released, to be transformed into something higher and more hauntingly beautiful.
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Love opens the door to and for Sorrow. The choice is Sorrow’s direction. Of course, interpretation is also poetically open, dear Poet. From observation, like Love, Sorrow adores company, like Love, Sorrow is not averse to sharing its cage with numbers of other Sorrows, all requiring to be fed, they eventually have their fill and leave, spreading their wings for Lighter realms.
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Love invites Sorrow in, to feed its hunger, quench its thirst...Sorrow has been sorely deprived of succour and unconditional nurture in most states of distress, sadness, betrayal, rejection, hurt, loss, grief (are only but a few called by name)...when Sorrow is well fed, and transfiguring into its better, higher lighter form, the captive/s eventually are let loose - it is Sorrow's choice of course, whether Sorrow stays or goes.
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Throughout history, the leaders of man, were rooted from a castle or the church...
where one would guide by bestowed power,
the other by a faith, unseen, yet to search.
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Breakdancing is not for me,
I've already broke,
My hip and knee.
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Bund maarnay Wala bistar par laitata hai Tum sarak par gaand laitay ho, Pagal wagal ho kia na thok na oil yunhi faad daitay ho?
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Palu Bach ja tera Khair NAHI Pathan bara zalim hai ye gaand maarnay Kay 70 tareqay Janta hai ye gaand fadnay ka bohat bara alim hai Pathan bara zalim hai Yara Mara.
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