In Flames.

Sloshed.Drenched in vodka. The tongues of fire lacing its crevices and hollows. The charred papernotes. Each alphabet masquerading as the semian faces in the fireplace. A gust of wind invaded the confines of the room till the fire guttered and perished. All that, and yet, the pangs of guilt never stopped.              xx The dark … More In Flames.


The shifting shadows on the wall The sunset on the hills The chirps of returning birds The clear,blue rills Scene to scene,my eyes grace And yet return to see The old brown envelope You once addressed to me If I could,just once,relive a few days I have a thousand cherished memories The champagne pours into … More Void.


Folly. The storm-clad monster we are all so cross with that we ultimately become one. It’s sad how foolish the human heart can be. It’s sad how easy it is to break and how difficult it is to put your broken smithereens back together again. It’s sad how illusive the human mind can be rendered. … More Wailsong

Prolonged winter.

Winter was just setting in. The early mist enveloped the city in a chilly embrace. A chilly gust of wind blew the dust from the earth whistling in flurries on the heavily tarred street of the town. There she sat,listless,in the company of old books and a big mug of hot brewing coffee, on her … More Prolonged winter.

Étincelles and flames

A blizzard blazed across the brook And froze the tarn to fire A shadow that once evaded arrest Gave in,to desire Crackle,hiss,blaze and thrive The Burning,Raging Fire Modesty being what I had saved Crumbled before the pyre The Crimson-Cerise-Damask roses Burnt and melted to blood Carnage and Gore bathed the senses That crept alive under … More Étincelles and flames

Beady Beads❤❤

The magical thing about beads is that they submit to your your creativity.. The dominant mind of mankind always wills to have an underdog.. Or just anything that submits to its supremacy. Beads,however,serve a purpose greater than just submission. They have the intrinsic capability to exude a sense of accomplishment,a sense of joy or … More Beady Beads❤❤

Vows made in wine.

Like a draught of vintage wine The senses flare alive Your faintest whisper,enrobed in liquor Drunk on the streets of Kiev You talk of glory(former) I think of you-Divine! And though your vows(in wine) whisper My folly-gulliby accepts Thine At daybreak,they vanish No sparks of a former fire? You remember nothing(about me or mine) Yet … More Vows made in wine.

The dying fire.

I look at the sky,the sunset orange heaving on the cloudy bosom. The dying fire in your eyes- forgotten warmth,neglected love and ash-the remains of the fire that once flamed in your beady eyes.