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Jashan fatta

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Love taught me Love taught me to be strong, to be independent To leave the worship and to heal the shame, Unless the presence of the pure soul flame? Does the immortal hope and energy? Kept the light needs of no unbroken bliss? Does the lost shine, the fragile treasure frame, That fills the inmost with that own strong flame? O heavenly Father, in thy vast abyss? Who lifts the earth above the world in shade? Does the warm presence of the wreathed goddess, For a new beauty in her beauty steeps? Yet, like that Spirit of Love in masquerade? Must be Evil as her sun at sunlit, Make her own prowess with a glow like noon, Sit on the ground in wreaths beneath the moon. Old earth lies with a glamour over it ©Jashan fatta #lovetaj Love taught me Love taught me to be strong, to be independent To leave the worship and to heal the shame, Unless the presence of t

Love taught me Love taught me to be strong, to be independent To leave the worship and to heal the shame, Unless the presence of the pure soul flame? Does the immortal hope and energy? Kept the light needs of no unbroken bliss? Does the lost shine, the fragile treasure frame, That fills the inmost with that own strong flame? O heavenly Father, in thy vast abyss? Who lifts the earth above the world in shade? Does the warm presence of the wreathed goddess, For a new beauty in her beauty steeps? Yet, like that Spirit of Love in masquerade? Must be Evil as her sun at sunlit, Make her own prowess with a glow like noon, Sit on the ground in wreaths beneath the moon. Old earth lies with a glamour over it ©Jashan fatta #lovetaj Love taught me Love taught me to be strong, to be independent To leave the worship and to heal the shame, Unless the presence of t

Suranya

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{ Poetry in caption } WILD HEART by SURANYA Wreaths of rhododendrons Smell of jasmine, rose petal sprinklers But the sweetest smell was still That of your painte

{ Poetry in caption } WILD HEART by SURANYA Wreaths of rhododendrons Smell of jasmine, rose petal sprinklers But the sweetest smell was still That of your painte