You run through my veins like blood, I close my eyes only to see your face, the tug on my heart assures me you are still there.
We had our time, we have moved on I see you and I can’t breathe, I pray for time to stand still. Was there a part of our past that has not played out? Will there ever be another chapter? Was that the end? Am I to always wonder and ask
For a messenger of lies I lay down the script. A kick starts the game. I am the only visitor to the gallery. Kamasutra suicide displayed was a way of expression of a revolt against honour killing of your own
Sound Many sounds Living sounds A world is built with sounds Who is speaking? There are emotions Is madness an emotion? The question A common noise Out of the endless loop of noise a sound emerges Can you hear it?
Poetry is the heat, a part of my flame, it keeps me cool, envelopes in a frame. Am I sentimental, idle and worthless guy? Feeling keeps me human, passions let me fly. A force compels me to etch on papers
An innocent small girl is crying on the roadside her face seems very candid and expressions look naïve, but nobody knows the cause of her sadness and and no one can ever feel the hidden wounds inside her heart Why