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Scars to your beauty
What magnitude of pain can hurt? What is the measuring capacity of the human heart to bear, to accumulate in its precipice before it finally seeks redemption, before it concludes to itself no more? How ironic and disbarring it is to moan about the loss of someone after their demise after they bury themselves on the deathbed or even more unbearing when they bury themselves in their essence. If they bury themselves in their breaths, they break their souls, they pierce their hearts and shed every ounce of their aching identity that constitutes their trace.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
Publication pending
Dear Vocal friends. As I am about to catapult this new collection of assorted verse into an unsympathetic marketplace, I thought I would offer it first to my online buddies for review. This, in the hope that you might either (a) persuade me of the error of my intentions or (b) want to review the contents and advise your various followings, online or off, as to its literary merits (or otherwise). In short, advise them whether (or not) they ought to buy it. To me, a bad review is as high a compliment as a good review, perhaps higher. That said, I would hope that reviewers find something of worth in my words.
By Raymond G. Taylor2 years ago in Poets
