Sometimes too much of quantity is lost in search of quality.
It's that haunted feeling of anticipated loss:
Perfection is a terrible, and terrific, illusion.
Nevertheless, illusions keep the ego sated.
O Perfect Muse, come to me. Now.
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of late i got no time to read anything. I am happy i came here to read some of your stuff. I have put up some more poems , i hope you will like them.
We forever keep searching for that Hollywood-esque perfection, almost forgetting to smell those subtle perfumes that forever mark home in our memories.
Thankyou. It's great food for thought..