Fires, when left burning, can bring the greenest forests down. Tangerines hanging in the air, wringing the fiery crimson out of lives, devouring upon the beauty, leaving behind corpses; what a shame? Fires that can warm hearts, feed hunger, chase the dark away, can also cause an apocalypse when lit by the hands that are …
I see faces…
People leave homes behind. They move away. I wonder if their stories ever do. I wonder if, as much as we believe, have we ever been powerful enough to rip memories off the walls that boast them. Or, is it just an illusion, yet another desperate attempt at gaining power over time? Will we ever …
Should You?
Have you ever paused just for the sake of it? You know, standing still on an old path, in the midst of a swarm… rushing through life just like you.You find yourself greeting a strange kind of silence in that one moment. A silence, almost too magnetic for you to ever wish for a breakthrough. …
You will heal…
Glass boxes don't sing lore to the warriors of freedom when the skies fall and the waters rise. But, skies don't fall and waters don't rise in vain; they sob in vile. There are a number of things that may conjure disdain into this world, but no other blade yearns to be struck with thunder …
Hiraeth
Water flows through creeks and crevices of withered mountains when it rains over their pride ridden heads. Heads, as they say, are meant to be held high; necks, as we have seen, break under the curse of ego sometimes. In the end, if you don't step over this grandeur and pay courtesy to love, a …
clichés.
It is a fresh sunny day. You are strolling on this narrow street beside a park, listening to children giggling, riding high on their summer spirits. The grass is tender. It is like a newborn baby that just made its way out of its mother's womb; too scared to face the world, but too pure …
Cages…
Our history has known cages; Of all kinds and characters. The one with bars of gold And the others with floors of dirt. The ones which held the innocent And the others which freed the ghouls. But not very often, When you walk through the pages Of your own history, You land up Imprisoned. Imprisoned …
i have felt alone.
Often, in life, you spend your lazy Sunday afternoons staring at the ceiling and missing… Someone. Something. Everything. These are the times when you can't help but fall down an abyss of old and dusted picture albums. The pages turn so fast that this show seems like an unending retro movie titled, "All the times …
pause.
Your song is a choir of rushed strokes of black hollow paint on a white anxious canvas dangling free. Free. From a lone nail on a brick wall standing old behind the house of your dreams. You bury the dead behind it. They rise up as demons on starry nights and throw an embrace around …
Broken Cursives…
Have you ever lost your heart in the hems of broken cursives? It's a mystic realm that draws you in... like a black hole is known to snatch the world away. To the people of stones and metal, it may seem like forbidden magic when a poet holds your hand and walks you through the …
From The Quill 