Poetry

The Traveler

Deny me not access to the woods Do not hinder me from traversing the nations Sun, sea, and sand fills me with joy My name is Ovyay, the Traveling Poet. Dust, rain, contrary winds can’t Read more…

By Ovyay, ago
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