"The city heat swells and dips between the concrete."

I have always found it difficult to make a choice. Even the simplest of choices.

In the dead of the night,

“Ugh, rotten stains… Won’t budge…”

Problems come and go, opinions differ,

The boy stumbled a bit as he made his way through the quiet neighbourhood. His guitar bag felt heavy on his shoulders, and he struggled to

A fresh chopped moon radiates, Facing the lacy waves.

It was rather a pallid looking steel box; grey-shaded, almost colourless and drained of life. Which made it ideal for a twelve-year-old girl secreting away all her shenanigans, out of everyone’s reach, safe and sound in a dust piled corner in the attic.

Circumstances started to change

"What was their idea of fun?"

From my balcony, I watch the van load up with all their belongings.

With nothing left to give, She withered away. From black, then to white And she faded to gray.

As I write to you, I pray and hope that this letter reaches you in safe hands. Sadly, your Amma can only do that now. I’m sorry

Eyes groggy from the cold wind, Prophecies of your past stare into oblivion.

The grey cloud over my head  Accompanied me like a guardian. 

Last spring, I came across a guy who was sculpted out of the same marble stones that were used to sculpt the Greek gods back in the 5th century.

“Your Amma called,” whimpered Abba, “She’s not… well. She wants to see you.”

So lost in your righteousness You fail to contain the violence.

Drenched in sweet moonlight yet hidden in part, She sat on an oak tree that lived in the dark.

There was a letter from Yana’s grandmother on her nightstand. Which was weird, because just ten minutes ago, she and her parents stood on their porch as her grandmother drove away. Why would she leave a letter? Picking it up, Yana turned it over to see her name scribbled on top. Inside, with neat handwriting: