On a delicately scintillating night, did the luminescent fireflies, gather behind bushes to gaze at the moon; for long had they heard of her milky white, her understated brilliance and pale light, that had caused many a scribe to swoon! Awed by the humble, resplendent satellite glowing without pride in that turquoise twilight on that… Continue reading Fireflies
A slice of sunbeam shone upon the dead leaves strewn beneath the purple sky; and for a moment in time, it truly seemed, as though they effulged with life! © Isha Garg
And when you leave, the memories linger sultrily, imprinted in the now enriched hues of the glass vase, and that silk cushion; our movies, and that jazz we danced to... © Isha Garg
1 What ambrosial sword is it that knives at my sacred yearning? What maleficent scorn and acrimony, what wrath at my worship of an earthly deity? Are my desires too succulent for its ravenous thirst? Aren't my promises of devotion a meet price? Why stands it unsatiated with my ardent suppliance, even at the altar… Continue reading Retribution
So maybe she's mastered the poker face put the moon in a wineglass and escaped into the ink stained night reflecting no light, no starry blink no expression, no worries taking in the eclipses and storms that rent the firmament, into her galaxy and never crying tears of stardust. So maybe no one can see… Continue reading Maybe
