Wanting to turn the cold winds into a shower, she waited for the storm. That storm, she believed, would take her through a secretive egress that’d clear all clouds. The rhythm in her chest paced up signifying some complicated happiness.
If someone discovers you while yearning to be discovered, the feeling remains etched. Then, waiting wouldn’t be exhausting; it also won’t any longer be only the essence of sadness or loneliness. That was what she felt, a roller-coaster of emotions, that couldn’t easily be put in words.
What if that doesn’t happen at the dawn? Maybe, it’s meant to be at the dusk. The end of the wait will be that vibrant sunset, the best show saved only for the end of the day!
The head, getting full, ached as it compromised the vacancy in the heart bearing the latter’s burden in spite of constantly fearing if it was developing claustrophobia within, as the doors of escape from agitated thoughts were always locked.
An unseasonable lamp
Stays my side,
As rays of the sun
And shimmers of the nights,
Reassuring words of love
With her hands in mine! Like the touch of the wind
On a scorching day,
She is that touch wood
Amidst the decaying logs,
Making space for me to
not seek more but enjoy the lesser!
As each day ends, I wish I could dive into my chaos energetically rather than drowning pathetically and then watch the movement of water that overpowers me transferring a portion of its energy as our sweet little deal followed by taking a stand against the welcoming winds under the bed of stars preferably boarding over a gently swaying boat that sails over an ambient oceanscape as a lonesome point that is lost in this vast universe born only to find all beauty in the vanishing ripples that reflect the milky white planetoid pumpkin which has mood swings that do not match with mine and afterwards slowly slip into the arms of sleep right in the shimmering open arbour that remains unbarred while listening to the magical stories of umpteen galaxies that hang over and the mellifluous voice of surrounding waves that kiss me good night one by one until that philander with bright dancing rays barges in on my pleasant utopian or sometimes wild dreams forcing me to open my eyes after bulldozing all fantasies written and directed by Nox.
Word Count: 180 Sentence: 1
The writing above is an example of the usage of the literary device ‘Polysyndeton’. Nox is the Roman goddess of the night.
The more unliveable our urban centres become, we as tourists retreat into the new-age oases – the sustainable hotels – which are just illusions of naturalness. Even when they have committed to reducing wastes and carbon footprints, how long will we be able to live in this fantasy without having to deal with the repercussions?
Because I could not stop for death,
He stopped before me
Choosing the dark dock
In a deep valley
Amidst the lofty mountains
And started pouring out his anguish
By crying out tears
Until the sun shone again!
Here's a handful of sand
from infinite grains on beach.
As they fall trying to escape,
more clearer is the picture other side.
Past provides clarity, and
Future is far from haze.
A monkey ‘Spunky’ lost some key to a bunny ‘Bunkey’. Spunky, who’s a flunkey to a hunky junkie, clung to the monkeypod fearing the slinky walk of that clunky lad, abandoning the key in his name ‘spunky’.