It all comes back, like the quiet of the night. Buried deep inside are the longings and the grief for a thing you never experienced. Or did you? It lingers over my headTo the point i can’t disguise. Searching for a warmth of sunlightWhilst I look for myself in the fog. Longing for the airyContinue reading “is it all in my head? | 21”
Tag Archives: writing
feuille morte | 20
To make a countryman understand what feuille-morte colour signifies, it may suffice to tell him, it is the colour of withered leaves in autumn.— John Locke, An Essay Concerning Human Understanding, 1690 (Source: Merriam Webster) strolling on a red-orange path,re-living glimpses of our pastfly like feathers of gold. like the autumn foliagerunning so wild,our memories so old. myContinue reading “feuille morte | 20”
time heals everything | 19
fluttering by the door,ashes of abhor.here comes the wind,sweeping it away. ecstasy,i let it take my sight.here comes the sunshining bright, giving me warmth. (Cover:Pinterest)
hues of blue | 17
Around a fence, barbed with loneliness. Diving deeper, in the never ending ocean of deep hues of blue. Sinking, anticipating a possibility. My vision, fogged by the waves of void; I look around, everywhere is the presence of nothing. (CoverSource: Pinterest)
human tidal | 16
Madness of misery comes along your path so that you learn, become wise, understand and move on. Things happen, good or bad, life happens. Feeble intense whispers,boundless.A shadow,cloaked with melancholy. Lifeless wings,gouging its wayto no place. An ocean,blue-gray deep,dappled with wide trenches.Along the shore lay the relics,of sorrow;cold. The water,rising in waves,crawling furiously to theContinue reading “human tidal | 16”
the woods | 15
The woods, feel like home. Full of life, enigma and wilderness. The air so fresh that it lights up our raw selves. Exquisite, little creature,fluttering its wings.Swirls around the green bushdarting its way through infinite,gazing with awe.The buzzing sound,calling its name. Whirling in the air,scents of fresh grass and woody vines.Misty path,sombre and vast.The clouds,thickContinue reading “the woods | 15”
it’s an illusion | 14
Yesterday when I was rummaging through my thoughts, I came across a question my inner self asked me. It was- “What if I cared enough about the kind of person I am rather than my appearance, by this time wouldn’t I have become a better version of myself? Wouldn’t it be an actual self-growth?” ThatContinue reading “it’s an illusion | 14”
vision | 13
In my time on this planet until now, I’ve learned that Life is a path brimful of evergreen trees imparting wisdom, oceans of happiness, birds of purpose but along the path we come across cobblestones and fragments of desultry events. And a mixture of the course of these events is what makes our lives anContinue reading “vision | 13”
Stygian isle | 12
Another poem I wrote in the dark of the night when my mind was flooded with words and verses. I hope you dig it. My sky was vivacious, fleeting with orka, shining with the stars of solace, the rays of tranquiliy were soft & rosy. Now that you’re afar, my brightest star has doused. BeholdContinue reading “Stygian isle | 12”
palette | 10
It was one of those times when words started to swirl in my head and all I wanted was to jot down my thoughts. And then I ended up writing this piece. In this process, I discovered the answer to the question, “What keeps me up at 3am?”. …afar, deep-down percolates the blues; trying toContinue reading “palette | 10”
where penser meets expression 