Men of the Night

They came at night, lifting their evil banners on one hand, and darts on the other. They paraded streets, looking for souls to abduct, and men to recruit. They chanted perilous slogans to announce their presence, and no one dared to remain outdoors whenever these marauding fellows came to ‘play’.

They were men of the night who caused lives to take flight, they were hijackers of peace, and of course, every man’s nightmare.



Strait-laced Victorian,
speaking against our lack of morals,
looking at us with spiteful eyes;
if only you could crush us, aye?

Haha! very funny,
considering what you do in secret;
indulging in all the sins,
you openly criticise in the streets

Why don’t you shed this cloak of pretence?
we are aware you put on airs.
How can you expect us to listen to you,
when we know you feign the truth?

A tiny love tale

She: “I’m so sorry dear, I wish I were there right now”

He: “No worries babe, all I have to do is think of you, and I’ll be fine”


I often feel extra awkward whenever I write mushy romantic love stuff, but end up writing them anyway, for the love of writing; and that’s exactly what happens when you love what you do. You would want to try various areas under that passion of yours. It’s no wonder, you would find a hip-hop dancer today, dancing ballet tommorrow, or could even try to spice up the two, by doing some contemporary dancing thingamajig.

War Stories

And for the first time, in a long time, she saw his face contort in a smile, and just any smile, but the kind that reaches the eyes. So, she just stood there at the doorway, enthralled by the scenic view of him. He didn’t seem to notice her presence, too focused on the dispatch in his hands; the reason for the smile on his face. And right there, she made a silent prayer that whatever the good news was, that it lasted forever.

Gone was the ever wintry, mirthless General she had be forced to get acquainted to, since the beginning of the war. From how beautifully gay he seemed to be, she didn’t have to take a look at the thick brown paper in his hands, to have a good understanding of what it beheld. Whatever was there, was definitely something that would bring peace to their land; the one thing he had always longed for, something that had seemed like an illusive wish, the one and only thing, that could, at this time, make him look this happy.

She couldn’t help but smile at his smile, for finally, the real him was back, the him the war had buried for a long time. Satisfied with this turnabout, she gave a contented sigh.

He Ran and Ran (A Prose Poem)

in their intense sabre-rattling, they chased, and chased. “all must be slain! all must be slain!”, he heard them chant aggressively. and as they chased, and chased, he ran, and ran. the closer they got, the faster his pace became. minding not the twigs and wicked pines of the woods feasting on his flesh, nor the night’s thick darkness impairing his vision, he just swifly ran, and ran. where he was headed was not a priority, the pains resting on his flesh was not given a thought. his one goal was to prevent the bellicose men and their gears from catching up with him. thus, as they chased, and chased, he just ran, and ran!