Award-winning Indian Book Blogger
no storms were bold enough no waves as wild as this hundred-year old heart and this five-year old mind How do you like my new micropoetry format? Like it? No? Do share your thoughts below. Follow @themusingquill on Instagram for more poetry. I await you there. 🙂 ~~~~~ Asha Seth
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the heart’s behind bars and caged up is the mind yet the fiercest battles are theirs you will find ~~~~~ Follow @badbookthief on Instagram for more micropoetry. Happy writing till we meet next. Until then, carpe diem! 🙂 ~~~~~ © Asha Seth Stay in touch. Subscribe Now: Youtube| Twitter| Instagram| Facebook| Tumblr
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Never knew what hate was it was my love for you that introduced me to it a love that so completed me is slowly poisoning my mind, heart and soul ♥ Hate is the air around me the roads I trudge the sleepless nights with the ashes of your memories blackening my mind ♥ Hate is my…
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One fine evening I sat knitting. Shifting patterns and struggled trials, Doing and undoing the thing, over and over again… At times, I cursed beneath my breath, other times, I hurled them yarns and needles, right across the room… It was less a struggle with the needles, more with my heart and mind. The mind made it so…
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An ethereal shift An enter to exit No backspace Nothing to erase ♥ No feelings No control Free as a dove No more in love ~~~~~~~ Asha Seth
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At a quarter past nine with a candy bar and a smile she left him waiting under the tamarind tree ♥ At a quarter past nine nineteen years since his steps lead him unconscious waiting for her incredulous ♥ In the dark under the dim stars withered, weakened stands he under the dried tree ♥ Inconsolable sorrow engulfing…
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little things like secrets, like stories are bearers of poignant memories of sobs and smiles long lost in the sands of time ♥ little things like secrets, like stories they make home and stay forever in some forgotten corner of the mind waiting to be sought and celebrated like those broken toys now left untouched, uncared in some unattended, undisturbed corner in the attic gathering dust and what not…
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Words escape my mind, but thoughts never leave. Caught in a whirlwind, this is what perplexes me… What happens when you miss someone? Do they miss you too? What happens when your heart misses a beat? Does it get passed on to someone somewhere Needing it to live? What happens when we blink our eyes? The things we miss…
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What do you do when you seem to be fighting for peace Every single day? To be heard, to be understood. Things running out of hands all the time. But what do you do if not wait and watch them slip from between the gaps in your fingers. Every turn you take seems to be…
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The walks I take In the evenings, cold and dreary With the sun setting on the horizon I’m uncertain where I want to go The mornings I spend Wishing this and that Unhappy with what I have I’m uncertain about what I want The notes I make Sitting on the porch Writing and striking words…
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Originally posted on Asha Seth:
Image Credit: Pinterest …and for once, I want to forget the sad memories, and think of all the happier ones… tonight, can I leave behind? the heartaches caused by the impossible would-bes… can I step aside? and make way for the crippling afflictions to pass… can I look past your cruel…
Asha Seth 