from other blogs · prose/article

THE DANCE (By Kanika Sharma)

A writer never writes. He speaks, he weaves, he creates and he communicates all of this but a writer never writes. A writer paints, a writer sings, a writer cooks, a writer jumps, a writer dances, flies, kills, creates, makes love, plans, gambles, smirks, laughs, cries; but a writer never writes. So then, what does… Continue reading THE DANCE (By Kanika Sharma)

English poetry · from other blogs · hope · love

I’ll be there.

Originally posted on Chaos Subtitled:
As she sat on the cold bench, Her bare ankles crossing over each other. The breeze teasing her brown tresses, Which fall like a curtain over her face. Her fingers invariably fiddling With the white lace of her knee length dress. She stares fixedly at the emerald pasture below Lush…