The ink.

November 15, 2011


Filed under: Uncategorized — Asmita @ 10:10 am

Quiver comes chasing
with all its power
my distraught mind,
my feeble steps,
in the darkest of hour.

Fever runs
throughout my core
weakens my assurance,
forging into my conviction
all the more.

Deceit haunts me
with your mask,
I stare deeper
into my faith, my keeper,
my false rational.

But I dare to stand firm
against the odds
next to the truth.
Or do I?

December 20, 2010


Filed under: Uncategorized — Asmita @ 12:01 pm

The two long strands

of your hair

lying in my pillow

were the evidences

of your presence

in my territory.

I picked up those strands

and let them fly

out of my window

to the thin air


bid you farewell.

Create a free website or blog at