As the Skies spit fire,
the winds are brewing a storm red
living and dead don’t matter now
when the air is full of dread
I don’t hear the wolves howl
I hear their cries instead
Is this how I imagine hell
every time before I go to bed.
Tag Archives: Fiction & Poetry
Spiraled Staircase
that night,
to write,
to wonder
I sat on the spiraled staircase,
waited to spiral down inside
my thoughts,
my past,
my life ,
then I knew
like it has no beginning,
it is never ending
Like words,
and this poem,
*Experimented a bit, Try reading this poem first from the very first line and then from the very last line in reverse order*. Do comment whether good, bad or disgusting 😀
Stories
Far away
In a green land
near the park bench
where the lakes meet
and whisper stories.
I sit there
and read my stories out too
from the diaries
I wrote for you
to the wind,
lakes and
the universe
But I never finish,
Because you never left,
inside you are there
alive in every story
forever..
Dread
I do dread
the ghostly shadows
flinching and playing
with the mirrors
making faces
a new one every time,
they whisper in the dark
and laugh mockingly
behind my back
I do not get angry though,
they at least show what they are up to
unlike us who do the same,
but pretend to be angels
all the time.
even in the light.
Heavy Souls
If souls could weigh,
would you quantify them in
for spirituality
love,
hate,
or goodness
within them,
Obviously we will,
to every soul departing
or to every soul suffering.
after all we are used to
quantifying everything
why leave the soul alone?
Raw Love
She had raw love
the one you don’t find easily,
the one that is hard to play with,
the one that destroys you.
but you will still keep asking for more
because it’s a poison
that would end your hidden sufferings
because she can make you believe
with her eyes and love
that you are missing something within
you don’t fear death now
you fear those eyes,
that love,
this life,
without her.
Writings to Heaven 