diary, Ishaisms

Unsung Lovers

Going through one of my oldest journal, I found these precious, once yellow petals of a rose, that I used to ink as precious moments in. Nostalgia led to this little line... I know what you're thinking, dear reader - something different? What can I say? I just feel a change in the wind. Ishaisms… Continue reading Unsung Lovers

Ishaisms, Poetry

Dry not, my pen

Dry not, my pen, nor bite the dust before my time, you're the nepenthe to my agonies, the breath to my life. Dry not, my pen, nor leave me to fend for myself, your nib is my sword, your ink my solitary help. Dry not, my pen, nor grow weary of my imprint, I am… Continue reading Dry not, my pen