Infinities; They become such a lost concept In the way humans search For immortal happiness, So easily lost in the belief That some fragment of them Can live forever- And though we remain mortal, Small and limited in contrast to the universe; We dream as if we own the constellations- Bit by bit, we give … Continue reading Infinities
There are parts of you in everything I do. Like broken petals of a flower, so delicate, so vulnerable yet existing. With fragrance so intoxicating even when dying in love, leaving behind a subtle reminder of your existence. Such an irony that these flowers die in your name... But you seem so u n b … Continue reading Existence
If he craves for you like peacocks or rain, like caged birds for freedom. Restores your faith in love; makes stars, moons, flowers, ocean seem romantic and makes your eyes water after every sad book or movie. Then he's the one captivating your heart, holding your mind and beautifying your soul. Then don't let him … Continue reading Existence
What do you count on mostly tears, pain or the blood? I've cried with wolves, longed for a shoulder. Carried pain, in the freshness of wild I've stains of scarlet red, they never fade- my hands drenched in streams Tell me, what do you count on? Some favourite stars, wandering in dark the knots pulled … Continue reading Struggles and Judgement
True Desolation is caused by the absence of a Purpose, honey not a person. -Writers' Circle.
Very few are lucky to have someone in their life to suture latent wounds and make healing faster with less pain. -Writers' Circle.
He was as quiet as a mouse, He creeped up on you when you wouldn't expect, And like most thieves, he didn't choose the night, Like whispers in the wind, he travelled to his victims, Carried by the current of what the sky offered, Like most of them, he wasn't fated to die, He promised … Continue reading The Thief
~Describe the colour red without using the word 'red' It's the colour of the print your mother leaves when she kisses your cheek, It's the broken nip of the colour pencil a five year old gripped too hard, trying to make the perfect heart, It's the result of loneliness and emptiness, carved on skin, It's … Continue reading Red
A short, riveting prose which explores the idea of children who have never seen war.
'My whole life does not revolve around him' she scribbled in her diary with teary eyes. Her heart knew that it was a lie. He was her sun and she would revolve around him like the earth. His moods would bring changes to her life, like the sun casting different seasons. But there was only … Continue reading Seasons