The life of a writer is somewhat solitary, not necessarily because it is not possible for a writer to be an extrovert but because the art of writing is deeper than what is seen on the surface. Behind writers’ beautifully written words lie hearts that have been through all and...

Dust kissed the sole of my feet as I trod upon the ground valiantly a herculean task was set before me I peered into my heart and courage was visible I peeked at a mirror and I saw a fidgeting image whose image was it? I battled in a bottle...

Poetry is not easy like soup and eba If a poet must birth Poetry then the poet needs words, as meanings drop words to stanzas, stanzas to poems Poets birth poems conceive inspiration wild thoughts into written language From odes to sonnets dictions needs personification paradox salutes metaphor

All around me I see the faces that are hurting I hear the hearts splintering under the weight of your betrayal Everything once shared fast withering into nothingness Visions of a future with you teetering on the precipice of expulsion I feel the trust – once so priceless – disintegrating...

I used to wonder; What is so special about stars? Not until I found myself in a Galaxy Did I realise their specialty. I used to ponder; Of what use is water on earth? Not until I fell in the ocean Did I realise it’s uniqueness. I used to reason;...

I know of hands that ink truth I know of feelings that got hurt I know of my body you burnt I know of my ashes you spurned Be it day or night, still for you I yearn Hurt me with Inks that brandish truth in its slippery wake If...

When that time comes for me to write I’ll write that piece that appeals my heart And never, I’ll not listen to them Or pay attention to self-made gods Literary high priests With their reams and kilobytes Prescribing and pontificating Telling us what to write And even how to write...