Ah! Listen the song of storm from my disturbed soul;and it scatters flower buds into its lonely halls;like every pain needs a dirge, with wreaths that awful the world framed one for me, and gives the time it calls.

— Nithin Purple

Ha! Spring arrived at her sweet-scented palanquin, carried by the spirited Zephyrus and his coir with their murmuring music undulated in its own softness and fondled the leaves to astir.

— Nithin Purple

O' melancholy, hectic chill for human soul, herewith dismal presence, any spirit does descent.

— Nithin Purple

The day arrived, when myriad teary rivers flow and the muted wind faintly died in his tears—an altar for the beloved one's departure, for sister-hood is no more, for her to adore!while pangs the beating world in a lamenting voice;their remembering loss of the 'one' they embrace most and when the crepuscular came like a phantom, the mournful, gathered birds swiftly flew in gloom.

— Nithin Purple

The early dew-falls that did a pristine coating, over the woods with its finest transparency, glazed as like its wet white-glassy earrings that hung on the ears of wild flowers—unlatched my fancy.

— Nithin Purple

The thick baffling blades of false world customs rip off my views and ideas, like breaking every string of my aesthetic thoughts in disdain and jealousy;pain enough your tagline roars before I die.

— Nithin Purple