Forgive Them


I ask that you forgive ‘them, and lessen the baggage you carry upon your shoulders, for I’ve come to realise that such a thing does no good, but slows one down.


Photo art credit: Twanitoria


Stubborn Heart

This heart has been to a tough war,and there, it got punctured, 

there, it bled, and bled,

but never did it die.

The mutilations it suffered,

won’t mar it from loving as it should. Though it seems out of shape, 

it will continue to beat perfectly.

Though it looks severely broken,

the love it holds will forever remain whole.

This heart has been to a tough war,

but it shan’t stop reeking of pure love.


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!