Tag Archives: thunder

A blackballed blizzard.

Like the oceans galore

My feelings remain

Like the prisoners of war.






Like the waves tumultuous

My thoughts remain

Secretively voluptuous.




Rising from the purgatory.


Like the looming storm

Burdened, heavy

Burning my eyes like a sandstorm.


Hesitantly swarming in my chest

I have locked them up

Leaving myself bereft.


Do not try your pretending words, balmy

For they are raging inside

Threatening to surrender like a Tsunami.



Deafening myself

I slammed my bedroom door with a thud deafening myself to the conversation going outside in the living room. I switch on the television and turn up the volume to make others believe that I am occupied. Putting off the lights of my bedroom I subside to a calmer corner, the gallery in my room. I callously throw a bean bag to a corner, slump on it and yet again make myself oblivious to the loud television.

The only thing that boosts my energy is the soothing wind blowing after the tormenting rain and thunder. Everything seems calm now, hiding the gone pandemics. What’s gone is gone, why bother oneself with it?

There in the dark corner of the patio with shadows of light from my room and a little disturbing noise from the television, I sat motionless, closed my eyes, sighed heavily and went on to plan my next day. I didn’t even realise when I drifted into sleep, when it was already the next day, the scorching sun was shining on my teary face and the bean bag was desperately waiting to be released of my heavy weight.