Features What You Gave Me & What I Took Once there was no sky to turn up to, no land to let the feet rest only if the sun had bothered…
Poetry My Pen I don’t know where my pen falls weak, Where does it become stronger. I know its sparkling now. Aside from numerous visions.…
LiteraturePoetry All Roses on the Gunshots And the night shall fall short to spell, Another rain on the parched blood soaked in airy blue. To let hopes sulk…