New sanding disc Quotes, Status, Photo, Video

Rajesh Das

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

ensemble Mambo hence DM shall ©Rajesh Das #boat disc

ensemble Mambo hence DM shall ©Rajesh Das #boat disc

heart break the time of time

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

f dhara byy fix ©heart break the time of time #IPL d disc dede egg

f dhara byy fix ©heart break the time of time #IPL d disc dede egg

Kajal The Poetry Writer

+ Follow

Related StoriesReport Abuse Copy Text

Alone Bahta paani,udte panchi har koi chahta h mukaam apna,,, hum to chahe bhejna, kisi ko dil ki baato wala paigam apna.. Nadiyo ka kal kal krta pani,, bahti yeh purvai suhani.. koi to jaye us desh ko,,, jo suna aaye mere sandesh ko.. dhalne lgi saam loutne lgi chiraiya,, na sujha hme koi upay,,, bhor gya, duphriya gyi,, nisha bhi gyi aaye,, ab tm hi diyo koi tarika sujhaye.. ©kajal #latter #love #chitti aayi h #requesting mode #mousam ka haal #Soul #Sources of sanding latter

Alone Bahta paani,udte panchi har koi chahta h mukaam apna,,, hum to chahe bhejna, kisi ko dil ki baato wala paigam apna.. Nadiyo ka kal kal krta pani,, bahti yeh purvai suhani.. koi to jaye us desh ko,,, jo suna aaye mere sandesh ko.. dhalne lgi saam loutne lgi chiraiya,, na sujha hme koi upay,,, bhor gya, duphriya gyi,, nisha bhi gyi aaye,, ab tm hi diyo koi tarika sujhaye.. ©kajal #latter #love #chitti aayi h #requesting mode #mousam ka haal #Soul #Sources of sanding latter

Sahana~

+ Follow

Report AbuseCopy Text

If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song we play, again and again and again, in time remembering a melody. revolutions per minute and a tin-foil diaphragm faintly reproduce from a wax disc of spiraling lines, a voice, by which we came to know these things. The moon, lost in the impenetrable cloud banks of the Great War; Mother of Planes, whose hum fades into large bosom, returning us, only as always, with the rain. The fields remain a voice in a picture, and beneath the tin crackle of minutes at night, the serene song is reasonably heard. For better read 🌸 If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song

If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song we play, again and again and again, in time remembering a melody. revolutions per minute and a tin-foil diaphragm faintly reproduce from a wax disc of spiraling lines, a voice, by which we came to know these things. The moon, lost in the impenetrable cloud banks of the Great War; Mother of Planes, whose hum fades into large bosom, returning us, only as always, with the rain. The fields remain a voice in a picture, and beneath the tin crackle of minutes at night, the serene song is reasonably heard. For better read 🌸 If your life is a poem, what would it say? Behold the textured fields of brown-toned platinum. Years which remain a song