Our minds are inebriated on thought.
What is most important to you?
All things must come to an end sometime.
This poem gradually expands to probe cosmic mysteries whose answers only come in the form of silence.
When the creep comes to town, no home is safe.
I find myself a wicked place, where darkness marked it “home”…
When things are perfect you can recall the infinite memories lost to time.
Haruki Murakami wrote about butts so we’re talking about butts!
When you slip into a life of the mundane, it often feels as if you can’t escape the shackles of your own making.
With our first Hindi poem, we explore the feelings of wanting to fly while fighting the fear to do so.
To the sun we look so it may banish the darkness within us.