Nikita Narang
Abstract
We create our own storms
Our own tornado
And when it rains
When it's the time to grow
To get drenched
We complain about the rain
Power Of Love
Self Love
Bonds
Pain
Soltitute
Enough
Traveller
Enjoy The Rai...
Journey
As I risk my beliefs to fall in love with a heathen... As I risk my beliefs to fall in love with a heathen...
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...
Who is this invisible man?... Who is this invisible man?...
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...
Lovely... Lovely...
Playing with words.. Playing with words..
Whom did you kill today? Anger, Anger Whom did you kill today? Anger, Anger
I bleed.... Red! I bleed.... Red!
Oh! What do I tell you about my plight! That's how I spend the wee hours of every night. Oh! What do I tell you about my plight! That's how I spend the wee hours of eve...
How and when was the "Search of self", easy? How and when was the "Search of self", easy?
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????
And darling, I'm scared. Won't you take me home? And darling, I'm scared. Won't you take me home?
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..
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 ...
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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