Love finds lazy writers And makes example out of them Nailing them in history

Some art are meant to cut shortstretching them unnecessary makes it dull.

An artist is like a handicaphe needs his art to carry himself.

For love, we live For love, we dieFor love, we dream and get ready to be lied

Love is like a magic trickYou know you are getting fooled, but still, you stand in lineAnd pay to see it again and again.

A shadow has no relativeshe is universally orphan

Poetry is and should not be explained It’s not a theory not a formula or a set patternIt’s a labyrinth of reflection with no source of image

There is something so innocent about blank pagesThat I can't lie to them about my existence

Good luck is abnormalbad luck is common

Perfection is a thousand mistakes behind curtains.