Voice of Hearts

WISDOM OF VICTORY The exalt from every ounce of oneself, A soul that has no fear. When every drop of bloodshed counts, When the destination is so near. When tears screens your sight, The count of blisters on body is lost. The face of life is blurred, When no one knows what it cost. Wisdom is not the count of grey hairs, It’s the drop of tear at victory when all is lost. That can give you sleepless nights, It’s that mesmerizing thought. Dhrubjyoti

Few clouds couldn't find place in heaven, So they made their adobe in thou eyes. They posses the serenity of year's first rain, A mystic thrall that humans defies.  The hark of winter nights with flow of a brook, The eternal shine of sun kissed snow. The calmness that brings solace to a soul, And yet they have the mischief of a wild doe.  Mesmerized and lost in the depth, An everlasting captivation that persists. All I do now is wonder in awe, That something so magical can really exists.