I offer this prose to whom can dicern subtle beauty from hoarsh and dull
Exhausted from writting ,i felt that words did not express my deep feelings
A hot drop dimmed the middle line of the page, underwhich the paper wa smoldering, groaning ,craving for cry.
when my eyes deciphered that deep grievance,sincere emotions make a torrent of tears trickled one after the other
similar pure pearl nacklace had its thread disjoined, to quench the ignited heart.
<oh..even the spate will not suffice <said the paper.
Nevertheless, one single word was whispered, i heard fizzling,and the paper simmered down
Nothing but beauty is the billow that dowses a flamed quixitic mild soled, would you like to know who is the miserable ,
fine hearted,sensitive souled is