paper identity
In the land where colors dance and stories unfold,
My identity, a tale on paper, centuries old.
On parchment embraced by the ink's embrace,
In India's tapestry, I find my space.
Bordered by history, embellished with grace,
A mosaic of culture, a vibrant embrace.
Scripted in languages, diverse and refined,
In the script of my essence, heritage entwined.
From the Ganges to the hills that stand tall,
I am the narrative woven, binding all.
Through epics and verses, I proudly declare,
My identity blossoms, vivid and rare.
In the strokes of calligraphy, traditions are told,
A symphony of voices, in scripts unfold.
I am the manuscript, a heritage profound,
In the heart of India, my identity is found.
© zayd
My identity, a tale on paper, centuries old.
On parchment embraced by the ink's embrace,
In India's tapestry, I find my space.
Bordered by history, embellished with grace,
A mosaic of culture, a vibrant embrace.
Scripted in languages, diverse and refined,
In the script of my essence, heritage entwined.
From the Ganges to the hills that stand tall,
I am the narrative woven, binding all.
Through epics and verses, I proudly declare,
My identity blossoms, vivid and rare.
In the strokes of calligraphy, traditions are told,
A symphony of voices, in scripts unfold.
I am the manuscript, a heritage profound,
In the heart of India, my identity is found.
© zayd