As nature paints its own canvas of nostalgic beauty,

Those twilights hues of crimsons hovering on the sanity of minds,

Life may be the probability between past, present and future but nothing compares to the bliss that solaces the essence of charm, yearning to glide with leisure reacquaint me with just something that's worthy, enough of adjusting tones to the width and depth of life where it just heals and recharges the energies of forsaken times,

Just penetrating with rich spoils of nature and dwelling beneath them the longitude of dreamy paradise and to strive in hope that best is just waiting for me maybe a milestone away from voyage.
© Soni Mirchandani