In the symphony of joys, there sings a note of pain. In the silver lined clouds, there beholds the tears waiting to rain. In the bright sunshine of the day, there scorches a ray of hope. In the lucid dreams of night, there boggles an orb of kaleidoscope. In the ballad of love, there hides a mystery of malice. In the trust & faith of Thee, there cries a myriad promise. In the psychedelia of beauty, there hurts a thorn of jealousy. In the adamant soul of being, there stays an element of delicacy. In the lash out of words, there speaks the invincible silence. In the ocean of rationality, there flows a brook of innocence. In the crowd of millions, there lives a lonely heart. In the end of an era, there lies a new start.
Seasons turn, yet their rhythm never falters. The rains arrive when they must, the sun blazes in its time, and winter winds whisper their quiet chill. So too with this blog—its name carries a deliberate flaw, a gentle reminder that mistakes are part of us, often unnoticed, sometimes beautiful. Let this one be the sweetest slip of all: where Ameet becomes a myth, and myths find their faith. That's "Ameethyst"—born of imperfection, yet gleaming all the more for it.