Poetry

WHAT HAPPENED TO US

A sentence without meaning An existence without life. Claiming rights instead of embracing love A union of the disunited This is what our love has become. The songs have died down The romance has dried Read more…

By Ovyay, ago
Poetry

AUTOPSIES I HATE

Yet I find self conducting one in my thoughts. Autopsies of how they treated me. Autopsies of what they said to me last. Autopsies of rejection, devastation, defeats and regrets like an unending river terrorises the weary soul. Everyday, my Read more…

By Ovyay, ago