Fact is bitter than fiction

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic
Love something more than any blessing. Work one step ahead to claim this. Together this will change your life. :)

Submitted: December 16, 2014

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Submitted: December 16, 2014



Have a look at this simple ends. 

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Once there lived a story in times ahead,

Everyone wanted to complete its footprint,

One supreme source shaped any commitment for this truth,

They say such vacuum remain inside for cloudy existence across generation,

Outside this space where we live,

It is said God plans you for every imagination as life tales,

Sky opens for such clouds to hover across its vastness,

This fact is never ending so a ladder across highway where your feedback is the experience of this future,

The fictional tales is a fuel for this wagon where your journey begins every day,

Did your soul ever searched for this bitter meaning to be its grants?

If so, how will your end meets among crowd at this bus station,

Everyone loves to be around this innocence to be worthy of life's happiness,

Yet few feel they are deprived of this mirror where they picture some water as face wash,

Look at the blackboard of your imagination,

Today you see one bridge from your drawn unending check in the book of secrets,

This secret is as flow of your action adding for its own eclipse of your mind,

You feel happy when you have graded choices to be worthy of reason you need to wait for the next,

If you are bullish in this trade,

It is just like adding more speck of noise for the woodpecker,

Why would facts are bitter than fiction?

Without shapes your weakness has ten heads,

Weanling destination your journey starts with combinations,

There is a traveller uncommon as faith can guide,

One who opens such declaration against odds shapes your journey called life,

In every four cultural pillars there is some incomplete works,

You are face of one life trader called facts,

Traders usually count on dropping assumptions,

But facts remain in the template of one country house called fiction,

Everything may be born out of some shuffleboard,

Yet only thought that never ends is its bitterness you are head-on always,

Did God planned Teacher for this crypt tale?

For God everything remains,

For one scholar in the quest of existence,

One Teacher ever made this bond as true as life's gift,

This is not any new beginning,

But for everything you ever noted,

Some souls lived there gestures in these times,

You are just a sibling small bird around these fields,

God does not bring how or low like a half-clown,

We meet on this highway where time is a monument,

And in this milestone life is a carrier of your ship,

Something lay beneath its water,

It can be sand or sailing storm,

Whatsoever your lean time cannot be without these facts,

When you cannot ignore what went through shaping this journey,

Your destiny gets buried in the sand under these ocean wave,

When you drop reins for new shore where you are,

You become shining complex of life's operation,

This is true like a squalid place,

You are like a harbour making hover with new people wherever facts become fiction,

Before these facts you live like act of insinuating kiss of life,

One muse in its liberal arts,

Landed in the reclaiming quest,

Life is even better than these facts and fiction,

Yet we know before ever this journey shaped your life,

A passage of time renounce your birth,

Ultimately this path born to be gifted is your life shaping history ahead,


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