Bookworm. Poet. Story-teller.
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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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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On the loneliest days, when living’s hard to do, infused with pensive longing, your letters carry your smell, and also the reason for wanting to breathe again ~~~~~~~ Asha Seth
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Asha Seth 