Ishaisms, Poetry


"How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn't pull the trigger?" Virginia Woolf It's getting dark, baby I'm anxious, worried and wry It's thundering and raining lights are gone, and so am I I walk down the staircase carpeted in olive green night slippers noiseless but my mind screaming Light… Continue reading Fine

Ishaisms, Poetry


What weight of burden does it take for the soul to give up? What state of sorrow laden in the heart makes it so feeble? What fear, what apprehension does make the mind tremble? What makes one shun oneself from the world and escape into a blur? Hide away from all memories, from existence, from… Continue reading Hopelessness

Ballad, Ishaisms, Poetry, Soul

Song of the Mad Drifter

Every soul, of these very rocks and peaks was a traveller, living in a primeval Earth that evolved with every passing year… Art and music, of our ancient mystery, are the preservers; though our souls have ventured far, we’re still those wayfarers… Stifled by the confining conventions of the monotonous modernity, we’ve forgotten our history,… Continue reading Song of the Mad Drifter