like breathing in a room full of oxygen but the grief sitting on my chest asking not to gasp
is like wandering through the orchids beds and reminiscing the smoke and ashes of bygones
is also like I lend my wounds to others to expect them to experience what it was like but ending up putting bandages all around because naked could be prettier than being injured in wrong places.

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like breathing in a room full of oxygen but the grief sitting on my chest asking not to gasp
is like wandering through the orchids beds and reminiscing the smoke and ashes of bygones
is also like I lend my wounds to others to expect them to experience what it was like but ending up putting bandages all around because naked could be prettier than being injured in wrong places.

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SCILPA

what’s there in a name ?
That, which we call art by any other name, would look as delightful and feel pious, alike.

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People don’t abandon whom they love
People abandon whom they couldn’t love

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A son everyone needs
A friend everyone seeks
A lover we all crave
A strategist without a fail
A king
A brother
A citizen
An epitome of consciousness
A master of masters
Everyone can become
Such is KRISHNA
Full of divine possibilities

Let’s reborn as one
In each of us
Today and now

HAPPY JANMASHTMI

-Scilpa panigrahi

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“A pocket full of promises “

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Neither of us could leave and kept calling it love

-

How dried out
their minds would be
which drool at
mere the sight
of her
covered curves

-

Men out there had good looks
Branded clothes
Expensive cars
and luxurious life
But
But he sang a song only she could hear

-

Some days she wears a crown
And some days she bears an armor

Some days she is both
a queen and a knight

And some days
nothing at all

She still feels
most beautiful
and powerful

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