Blur.

POSTED IN | Tuesday, August 30, 2011




Across these lands,
Shrouded by mist galore,
Lies a castle tall and grand,
That you and I contrived.





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Blah.

POSTED IN | Tuesday, August 30, 2011




I thought a stream of prose would flow - 
Continuous, from its eternal source.
But as the clouds of thoughts grow sparse,
The words slowly disperse.





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Blank.

POSTED IN | Tuesday, August 30, 2011




A barren canvas stretches on,
Waiting for a stroke,
For the paint that lends it life -
From void to vivid.





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Marmalade Skies © Sanjana M

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New Delhi / New York
What is this life, if full of care, We have no time to stand and stare?