New unique love poems for her Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Vishwajeet

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like kar do yaro ©Vishwajeet poetry hindi poetry love poetry for her poetry quotes Hinduism #viral

like kar do yaro ©Vishwajeet poetry hindi poetry love poetry for her poetry quotes Hinduism #viral

Meera

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I can be unique, but I know who I am. ©Meera #UNIQUE

I can be unique, but I know who I am. ©Meera #UNIQUE

Er Abhishek

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मेरे ज़हन में तेरी बातों की चहक आज भी है, याद रहे कि मुझ पर तेरा हक़ आज भी है। जो पहन कर आया था मैं पहली मुलाकात के लिए, मेरी उस कमीज़ में तेरी महक आज भी है।। ©Er Abhishek Sharma #Shadow #Love #Hindi #Her #tum

मेरे ज़हन में तेरी बातों की चहक आज भी है, याद रहे कि मुझ पर तेरा हक़ आज भी है। जो पहन कर आया था मैं पहली मुलाकात के लिए, मेरी उस कमीज़ में तेरी महक आज भी है।। ©Er Abhishek Sharma #Shadow #Love #Hindi #Her #tum

Prince Martin

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White Shadows of the Past In the quiet confines of Clara's attic, memories of lost love lingered like shadows, haunting her every thought and tugging at her broken heart. The moonlight filtered through the dusty windows, casting a ghostly glow on the forgotten trinkets and faded photographs that adorned the room. Among the relics of a love long gone, Clara found herself entangled in a web of bittersweet nostalgia, her heart heavy with the weight of lonesome memories. She traced the outline of a weathered photograph resting on an old wooden chest, her fingers trembling with emotion as she gazed into the eyes of the man who once held her heart. Time had passed, seasons had changed, but the ache of loss remained fresh and raw, a festering wound that refused to heal. The echoes of whispered promises and tender moments filled the empty space, a cruel reminder of what once was and what could never be again. Clara's voice, tinged with sorrow, whispered into the stillness of the night, confessing the depths of her pain and longing. “I once had love, but now I've only got lonesome memories,” she confessed to the shadowy figures that danced in the moonlight. “You were my greatest possession, my everything, but now you exist only in my memories. In this world of emptiness and regret, I find myself clutching onto fragments of a past that was shattered by the cruel hands of fate.” As the night wore on, Clara was consumed by the haunting specters of what once was, trapped in a cycle of yearning and regret. The first love, they say, is the worst when it comes to a broken heart, and Clara knew the truth of those words all too well. The shadows of the past loomed large, casting a pall over her fragile heart and leaving her adrift in a sea of memories that threatened to drown her in sorrow. In the attic of her solitude, Clara wept for what was lost, for the love that slipped through her fingers like grains of sand, for the lonesome memories that haunted her every waking moment. The moon hung high in the sky, bearing witness to her silent pain, a silent companion in her journey through the depths of a heartbroken soul. And as the night waned and the first light of dawn began to break through the darkness, Clara found herself alone in her grief, a prisoner of the shadows of the past that clung to her like a second skin. The moon, indifferent to her suffering, cast its cold light upon her, a cruel reminder of the love that was lost and the lonesome memories that would forever linger in her soul. ©Prince Martin #Moon #story #UNIQUE #Universe #storyofheart #Love

White Shadows of the Past In the quiet confines of Clara's attic, memories of lost love lingered like shadows, haunting her every thought and tugging at her broken heart. The moonlight filtered through the dusty windows, casting a ghostly glow on the forgotten trinkets and faded photographs that adorned the room. Among the relics of a love long gone, Clara found herself entangled in a web of bittersweet nostalgia, her heart heavy with the weight of lonesome memories. She traced the outline of a weathered photograph resting on an old wooden chest, her fingers trembling with emotion as she gazed into the eyes of the man who once held her heart. Time had passed, seasons had changed, but the ache of loss remained fresh and raw, a festering wound that refused to heal. The echoes of whispered promises and tender moments filled the empty space, a cruel reminder of what once was and what could never be again. Clara's voice, tinged with sorrow, whispered into the stillness of the night, confessing the depths of her pain and longing. “I once had love, but now I've only got lonesome memories,” she confessed to the shadowy figures that danced in the moonlight. “You were my greatest possession, my everything, but now you exist only in my memories. In this world of emptiness and regret, I find myself clutching onto fragments of a past that was shattered by the cruel hands of fate.” As the night wore on, Clara was consumed by the haunting specters of what once was, trapped in a cycle of yearning and regret. The first love, they say, is the worst when it comes to a broken heart, and Clara knew the truth of those words all too well. The shadows of the past loomed large, casting a pall over her fragile heart and leaving her adrift in a sea of memories that threatened to drown her in sorrow. In the attic of her solitude, Clara wept for what was lost, for the love that slipped through her fingers like grains of sand, for the lonesome memories that haunted her every waking moment. The moon hung high in the sky, bearing witness to her silent pain, a silent companion in her journey through the depths of a heartbroken soul. And as the night waned and the first light of dawn began to break through the darkness, Clara found herself alone in her grief, a prisoner of the shadows of the past that clung to her like a second skin. The moon, indifferent to her suffering, cast its cold light upon her, a cruel reminder of the love that was lost and the lonesome memories that would forever linger in her soul. ©Prince Martin #Moon #story #UNIQUE #Universe #storyofheart #Love

Udayan Dutta (শ্রীসূক্ত উদয়ন)

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White সত‍্যি,আমি আলাদা! এই বিট হেয়ারকাটের যুগে আমি নব্বইয়ের মতো লং হেয়ার রাখি। রোজ রোজ হাতবদল না করেই প্রথম প্রেমের ক্ষতেই দিন কাটাই। ©Udayan Dutta (শ্রীসূক্ত উদয়ন) #FirstLove #90sLife #UNIQUE

White সত‍্যি,আমি আলাদা! এই বিট হেয়ারকাটের যুগে আমি নব্বইয়ের মতো লং হেয়ার রাখি। রোজ রোজ হাতবদল না করেই প্রথম প্রেমের ক্ষতেই দিন কাটাই। ©Udayan Dutta (শ্রীসূক্ত উদয়ন) #FirstLove #90sLife #UNIQUE

Prince Martin

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Title: "Her to Her Son" In a picturesque town nestled amidst rolling hills, a devoted mother named Eliza lived with her son, Henry. The bond between them was unbreakable, filled with love, comfort, and support. Together, they shared moments of joy and sorrow, their hearts intertwined in an unspoken dialogue. As time passed, Eliza fell ill, and the days grew darker with her failing health. Despite his deepest fears, Henry stood by his mother's side, holding her hand through her moments of pain and weakness. Eliza, feeling the weight of her mortality, sought solace in the beauty of their shared memories and the unwavering love of her son. One peaceful evening, as the sun painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, Eliza's final breath whispered through the silent room. With tears streaming down his face, Henry held her close, feeling the void left by her departure. In her final moment, Eliza whispered words that echoed in Henry's heart, "You are my legacy, my love, my son." In the days that followed, Henry found a letter left by his mother, written with delicate care and filled with words that sang of her boundless love. Through tear-stained eyes, Henry read her final message—a testament to their shared journey, her hopes for his future, and the enduring strength of her love, signing it simply, "Her to Her Son." Through his grief and loss, Henry discovered a beautiful truth—his mother's love would always guide him, a beacon of light in times of darkness. The moral of their story shone brightly: love transcends space and time, shaping the hearts of those it touches and leaving an eternal legacy of compassion and strength. As Henry stood amidst the memories of his mother, he found solace in the knowledge that her love would forever be engraved in his heart, a cherished gift from "Her to Her Son." ©Prince Martin #sugarcandy #motherlove #Love #Her #story

Title: "Her to Her Son" In a picturesque town nestled amidst rolling hills, a devoted mother named Eliza lived with her son, Henry. The bond between them was unbreakable, filled with love, comfort, and support. Together, they shared moments of joy and sorrow, their hearts intertwined in an unspoken dialogue. As time passed, Eliza fell ill, and the days grew darker with her failing health. Despite his deepest fears, Henry stood by his mother's side, holding her hand through her moments of pain and weakness. Eliza, feeling the weight of her mortality, sought solace in the beauty of their shared memories and the unwavering love of her son. One peaceful evening, as the sun painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, Eliza's final breath whispered through the silent room. With tears streaming down his face, Henry held her close, feeling the void left by her departure. In her final moment, Eliza whispered words that echoed in Henry's heart, "You are my legacy, my love, my son." In the days that followed, Henry found a letter left by his mother, written with delicate care and filled with words that sang of her boundless love. Through tear-stained eyes, Henry read her final message—a testament to their shared journey, her hopes for his future, and the enduring strength of her love, signing it simply, "Her to Her Son." Through his grief and loss, Henry discovered a beautiful truth—his mother's love would always guide him, a beacon of light in times of darkness. The moral of their story shone brightly: love transcends space and time, shaping the hearts of those it touches and leaving an eternal legacy of compassion and strength. As Henry stood amidst the memories of his mother, he found solace in the knowledge that her love would forever be engraved in his heart, a cherished gift from "Her to Her Son." ©Prince Martin #sugarcandy #motherlove #Love #Her #story