The second instalment of the short story. * * * His touch upon me was vile. His fat fingers, his greasy smile, his tiny eyes that had this triumphant gleam in them. As if he’d conquered me. He thought he’d conquered me. Repulsive. But that was not the worst part, not at all.Continue reading “Capturing Perfection, Chapter 2”
Like cliffs, battered by
a tormenting sea, that
crashes its salty tears,
flinging without mercy.
Prisoner. Of this modern life, this complex way, a web of stress, pressure and drive. You run, racing forward, oblivious to the present and too forgetful of a past you should learn from. What use is success when you become suffocated by it? Caught in the chase, always yearning for more, you are never satisfied.Continue reading “Prisoner”
Those moments that lift you up, after you’ve been torn down Nurture your spirit, and erase your frown Coming all of a sudden, a gift on the wind Whispering softly, a song just for you When you hold my hand, and never let it go When you seize me strongly, and take me away *Continue reading “Hold my hand”
She walks, barefoot, Across the shattered glass of her broken dream. Soles, tender like those of a child, Cut open, bleeding upon those splintered shards. Waking pain, a tender agony, at least they Bring something to this timeless abyss. She groans, rolls over, In the infinite spirals of her mind she turns. Staring, eyesContinue reading “Insomniac”
1. Shadow on the Rainbow: A streak of red. Red. The vivid tone of the tulip field gleamed through the thin arrow slit of the keep’s walls. She moved on, past the next tower. Pink. And the next. Yellow, yellow like the glorious sun when it shone in the springtime. When it shone over theContinue reading “Book 1 preview: Chapter 1 & 2”
The first chapter in the short story. The soul is born, alive with music and colour and beauty. Our talents, meant to be explored and celebrated and shared with the world. But when that is stolen, the inner beauty becomes twisted by forlorn rage and rusty fear. And then the soul begins to crumble. *Continue reading “Capturing Perfection, Chapter 1”
Writing has always been a part of me, as opposed to something that I do. It comes in sporadic outbursts and disjointed fragments, bubbling up from the subconscious parts of my soul, seeping from the closed corners of a heart that remains mysterious and foreign to me.