A poem by Wani Ishtiaq

Hello friends,

And today we received a wonderful poem from one of our readers, Wani Ishtiaq. Enjoy this beautiful piece and share the love.

In that eerie ecstasy
Reality blurs out fast
Changing momentarily flare of time
Virtually blocking all senses.
Smouldering the real dreams
Leaving behind hapless ashes
Existing, hoping for a nourisher
They had seen long time ago.
Where the time snails along
In connecting two souls for life
Still, deep down the insiders
All senses stop to fire, waiting.
Let this barely perceptible breeze
Nurture and carry my feeling
To that distant part of mine
Till you change into that wind.
The desperate insider in my core
Waiting for those moments
When you will feel the same
Sweet tinge of that feeling.
The glowing golden curls
Falling from eternity
Shading the beauties beneath
Of the soul so queer.
Beauty spilling along
The innocent curves of visage
Walls of my heart, vibrating
Within beats echo, reverberating.
Sweet voice so luring
Wishing its clatter again and again
Adding to the strangeness
Simmering in core of my heart.
Fallen to the innocence
Flowering from sweet mannerism
Summoning my heart out
Sprouting that feeling

Quid est Veritas


cropped-author-photo5This beautiful poem is written by Norine Acevedo. Enjoy the poem and don’t forget to appreciate our guest writer by reviewing it.




Time has a way

Of calling back the days,

Of bringing to the heart

What’s true.

Glorious were those days!

The Sun seemed to always

Shine upon our happy Youth.


I see the Sun

Now dip behind the trees;

His light shines bright

No more.

The silver Moon,

High in the sky She climbs;

The Stars slip higher still.


Memory defined,

In the corner of my mind,

Remind me of Eternal Truth:

Someday the Sun

Will shine for me no more;

Woe for those left behind!

What will be said

Of glory days gone by?

How did I live my life?


The Sun, it sets;

The hour marches on;

The minutes, and seconds, too.

I see the Old

Grow cold in their desire.

I see my time

Pass, too.


All fades away

In the deep and darkening sky;

Nothing left to the eye.

Time has a way

Of taking all our days,

And leaving behind

the Truth.


Written By – Shivam SinghShivam
E-mail- kingshivamsingh@gmail.com

Our first post in the guest category. Enjoy!

My land is beautiful
and so are the people
a spring that’s hueful
with a colony of maple
steamy summer evenings
and the tours to the park
the dawn of gusty winds
and the rides in the dark
morning blurs of winter
and the incinerating tea to heart
that knitting yarn of the old
and ice-creams in the cold
I miss my home, I miss my time
nostalgia at its crown
those busy detours of market
and lousy lane of bargain
dickering at the street shops
and road blockades of pain
desserts of the corner shop
cacophony of the train
that river side at the end
with sunset at the frame
chirping birds and peddling swans
and the temple at the shore
flapping waves and thumping breeze
heaven’s at the top
I miss my home, I miss my town
nostalgia at its crown
the cobwebs of colonies
holds my little swanky home
my altercating mom and little feisty dad
the aroma of the kitchen
and the dining table chats
friends who formed my world
sister who termed them brats
the festive feast of my birthday
and pocket money in cash
such is my heavenly land
which misses me lot I know
I miss my home, I miss my town
nostalgia at its crown