I think of myself as a heavy cloud, waiting anytime to pour down. But it is in me, trying to restrain my inner cloud. Though the sky is gray and it seems I keep falling on the same gravity. Sometimes I deprived myself from being weary to that bleak midnight dreary. It was like looking in supine to the sky with luminescence, but there is no single star that glows like a phosphenes. But in solitude I look forward to the day of iridescent like the captivating rainbow that glows– to seek not in ephemeral glory but in ineffable yet utterly eloquent glory.
The skies smiled above, The moon peeped through the cracks, Clouds black than usual, A new life arrival waited, A pain so enormous, She bore it courageously, This life had to survive, This life wasn’t hers anymore, But every ones’
About the book: This is a selection of poetry about solitude and other obsessions that have distracted, driven, destroyed and / or defined us. Spanning genres, styles, emotions, time & place, these works by a collective of 5 poets are
A descent into the abyss of hell, as the petal of a flower takes flight into the sky above, where the angels govern mortal men, keeping a watchful eye on their sheep. summer night solitude, and a prayer to the