Old Soul

I am the whispering wind in the cold night; the shooting star with a trail of white; I am all worlds; I am a tale; I am the bird heralding the gale... I am the dawn, the dusk, the will o' th' wisp; I am the footprint on the sand, and the rescue ship; I…

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Musings of an Old Soul

My soul is made of memories as intricate as the stars; there's no emotion I haven't felt before, no trade I haven't learnt by heart. There are places I've visited in lifetimes long ago - pictures of Greece and Egypt and Rome, are not mere pictures to me anymore. That's how I know I've known…

The Currently Classic

A gossamer affection dipped in monochrome is born, as the uncrowded lanes of memory we walk down; nostalgia nonchalantly negates the chrysalis within our souls making hearts soar as we near this tedious technicolour world... We dream of the classics in our waking realities, crave for a drop of poetry in this mundane madness -…