If sunflowers grew to be red and roses appears to be naked, Will the Kingsman in the golden bow be able to negotiate with the lovers? And Will spring walk proudly holding all-colours-equal in the court of love, to prove, that love finds you no matter where your heart is? Gibran's, Do not love half lover's, echoed the courtroom with judgements passing through the years and roses filing pleas, How it's color matches with the cheeks of brides? But across the table, orchids throw themselves, telling, Love borns out of symmetry, and you always worshipped, Everything-is-fair-in-love-and-War, But Loving someone is peace itself. I walk around the disk, budding hope on the asymmetrical rays of petals, believing whole-world-is-a-sphere but everything revolves in a circle symbolising, how my straight lines were always bent. Silently, I collected the fallen thorns and walked out, only to put it under the feet of my beloved, saying, We are two different circles, but together I want us to grow our World For better reading. If sunflowers grew to be red and roses appears to be naked, Will the Kingsman in the golden bow be able to negotiate with the lovers? And Will spring walk proudly holding all-colours-equal in the court of love,
