Silence, a wanton death. Weary dissent muted. A ripe nation bleeding amok, let’s rise. Punctured democracy, wallowing in quick sand. A sleepwalk, a moral debris? Let’s rise. Blinded we must Read More
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The saffron orb latently marching to a sinful heart, A sorry june morn will soon be a yellow charade. Sticky soaked yet almost blooming, an unpretentious lovers’ song shall be Read More
Through the ribs of her eclipsed sunflower, the yellowed sun was born at the eleventh hour. Wilting cloud and a wanting earth, dawn revealed yet a promise scarred. She secured Read More
Dad, This is because you always said that writing down persuaded the butterflies to escape the humdrum of yesterday, and paint our very breath at this very moment. So I Read More
