The Beauty Of Literature

A snowfield and there lies a house full of life ,

The contradiction and fluctuation in their weather strive .

The furry balls of snow and flakes of fire beside,

The cold of passion and deep depth imbibed inside .

The real contentment lies there in the midst of entities,

The inked papers and blanket’s ease.

Those antique piece and passing curtain lights,

A single flower in carved pot and tales of long nights.

The other side states a scenario of travellers walking ,

Unknown to their paths and difference in their talking.

It is when a stranger knocks the door of the house,

Fell in a love with the architecture , grace  and the holeof little mouse,

Which lead to the learning and therefore his imagination arouse.

That was beauty of house once I happen to collide,

There I completely surrendered to my thoughts and it’s ride.

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