Paper-Cuts

      Pellucid petals of lust, I, lean over to smell the paper, Where I lament my dead hopes burning ferociously. My pen is pervicacious inclined to savour the smoke ignited. The words are my soul, Insatiable I am dipped in its white corona. Cathartic particles of serenity forms as I write my love,… Continue reading Paper-Cuts

As I write

  The intoxication within is valiant enough to infuse my pen with the darkest of the tales to tell, My heart is surreptitious at times, hiding even the lamest of smiles, as I write, the emotions open up like the blooming of bluebells, now I know what all troubled me The white sheet was dark… Continue reading As I write