Loves wordplay and is obsessed with puns. (Quite a sickening obsession)
As a landlocked sailor, tides are my turf.
Writing is catharsis when in crisis.
A deep passion, every other time.
Most of my works are fiction. Please don't ping me asking if I'm fine. :/
P.S.: Here's the link to my interview, if you wanna know me better:
Broken, he was, like those sand castles.
Hollow, he was, like those conch shells.
Years into making that pearl in his oyster shell,
seconds into the world stealing it from him,
he lay there, desolate and despaired.
She, a mermaid, an intermediate.
Somewhere between him and the sea.
But so was he, at this very moment.
An intermediate, between life and death.
He, always a fan of extremes,
now in a seemingly endless limbo.
She, finding a life in those intermediates,
now craving to get into one of those extremes.
Rendered faceless by the world,
he now wears a rock in its place.
Rocks, lifeless as you know, since always.
Yet, your marks on them stay etched forever.
Why though? Aren't there enough masks already?
Why did the world have to steal his face? Why?
Declared a half-human by the world,
she now craves to be a whole something.
Half-human, for once, sounds more human.
A whole human was up to no good anyway!
Why though? Isn't she better off being a mermaid?
Why crave for limbs when she got fins? Why?
He lost his pearl, or so was he told.
She found it, her ticket to being a whole.
He lost his sleep, or so did he think.
She woke up, from her sea slumber.
She found his heart, the pearl.
She found him, the oyster shell.
His dreary, hollow frame
had a heart she could tame.
Her smooth, swaying fins
found his sea within, to swim through.
And like they say, Finders Keepers!
She rids him of his insomnia,
he rids her of her slumber.
Together, they lay there,
somewhere between land and sea.
On the bay, wholesome and hearty,
between extremes, in our dreams.
//Lost & Found