Best wclaconic Shayari, Status, Quotes, Stories

marmalade ツ

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°°The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the want was a day. The grass, with its soft dew caresses my hair which rest on it. Some twigs nearby tried to call upon the yellow leaves but they had already gone too far to return and I had already followed them so far to end. | caption | °The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the want was a day.

°°The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the want was a day. The grass, with its soft dew caresses my hair which rest on it. Some twigs nearby tried to call upon the yellow leaves but they had already gone too far to return and I had already followed them so far to end. | caption | °The Last Autumn Night°° 'Why' was never the question, even though the answer was a goodbye. 'Stay' was never the wish, and neither the want was a day.

loyalica

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I am a man with hundred tears, Found myself in darkest door of fears //Caption I am a man with hundred tears, Found myself in darkest door of fears, Is the world is so easy? To live, to cry, to be depressed. Way to die Became so easy and nearest. Dearest people makes fun, So seems

I am a man with hundred tears, Found myself in darkest door of fears //Caption I am a man with hundred tears, Found myself in darkest door of fears, Is the world is so easy? To live, to cry, to be depressed. Way to die Became so easy and nearest. Dearest people makes fun, So seems

Miss xyz

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Laconic: A short conversation (Read in caption) Connecting the horizon of life on my palm, I got him in my small universe. His universe was never defined nor I mended it to create one. Because he was dressed in

Laconic: A short conversation (Read in caption) Connecting the horizon of life on my palm, I got him in my small universe. His universe was never defined nor I mended it to create one. Because he was dressed in

Zumi

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*Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Those poems shine in dern- The darkness of my own fears, A sciamachy rides me, as I sit To write another laconic poem, With my black ink of grief, on The pages of a withered petal Of red rose which was our love. Laconic love. Anagapesis. Period. //Caption *Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Why do I feel like a poem incomplete, left to rust, by the agents of time and love and oblivion? Why do I feel like a poem,

*Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Those poems shine in dern- The darkness of my own fears, A sciamachy rides me, as I sit To write another laconic poem, With my black ink of grief, on The pages of a withered petal Of red rose which was our love. Laconic love. Anagapesis. Period. //Caption *Of Anagapesis and Laconic Love* Why do I feel like a poem incomplete, left to rust, by the agents of time and love and oblivion? Why do I feel like a poem,

Zumi

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#Day45 They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write What I Actually am? //Caption // Laconic // They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write

#Day45 They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write What I Actually am? //Caption // Laconic // They say, You become What you Write, But what If I write