Roseleen Ahmed
Abstract Children Stories Others
Scenic roads
Twists and turns
Towering trees
Magnificent cliffs
Stretching coastline
Arch bridges
Pristine lakes
A rider's dream
Rings of desp...
Red Lipped Sm...
Connected
Together
A Puny Pawn
Serving Human...
There's A Cha...
Lockdown Hour...
The Butterfly...
A Rider's Dre...
Forehead furrow cringed... Forehead furrow cringed...
The mind is a mindless writer, It writes everyday... The mind is a mindless writer, It writes everyday...
I clasp the pitcher to quench my thirst, Just then the claps of thunder... I clasp the pitcher to quench my thirst, Just then the claps of thunder...
So, the debate between friendship and love flares up again; It’s been quite long, with the situatio... So, the debate between friendship and love flares up again; It’s been quite lon...
Feelings are like crooked lines of our heartbeats, Staying inside... Feelings are like crooked lines of our heartbeats, Staying inside...
Winters crept in, the weathers chill, With misty morns and foggy nights... Winters crept in, the weathers chill, With misty morns and foggy nights...
Very nice... Very nice...
How and when was the "Search of self", easy? How and when was the "Search of self", easy?
Nice.... Nice....
While we are small we say I want to be older, As we get older we say I want to be younger... While we are small we say I want to be older, As we get older we say I want t...
But what of the humans dying so???? But what of the humans dying so????
He doesn't want to dive deep anymore... He doesn't want to dive deep anymore...
Together we'll paint the planet! Together we'll paint the planet!
Glued to the pages, she is now lost, In this new life and a new identity.. Glued to the pages, she is now lost, In this new life and a new identity..
I repeat this ritual, till my heart stops feeling like it would implode, I repeat this ritual, till my heart stops feeling like it would implode,
They were searching for something, In the garbage heap. They were searching for something, In the garbage heap.
And now though strange, we want the Mondays back Because we only pine for what is not and then wish... And now though strange, we want the Mondays back Because we only pine for what ...
Always live with your colour... Always live with your colour...
Listen my friend, my dear tree... Listen my friend, my dear tree...
It’s the money you think, that will make you happy? It’s the money you think, that will make you happy?
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