A Lament
Poetry

A Lament

There’s no use in singing songs of love. Anymore. Here, Men are pelting the weak with stones. Men are razing to the ground innocent cities, turning them into tourist attractions for posterity. Men are dealing in fellow lives. Now, as I look at my songs, stripping each of them slowly …

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Another Summer
Poetry

Another Summer

He always hid in her hair On days when she would Deepen in some other’s arms. On days, when the sky looked As if it wanted to give up All its rains In a single gust of unrest. The light outside never falters Till it goes out altogether, Making way …

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