There was truly something magical about this antique shop. I walked through the door and couldn’t believe my eyes. There was a book, a diary per se. A peculiarly beautiful diary with leather bound hardback consisting of creamy papers yellowed a little by age. A kind of book that must have existed for about twenty nine years at least, with a soul that survived decades … Continue reading The diary
There’s something in it,The depth of those eyes,I know not,the serenity or wisdom,the coveted emotionsflowing in the river of thoughts,the sky hue, the shades of green,or an oceanic drop,I know not.But it is there,a fleeting soul empoweredfrom her past, a glint in the eyea smirk of cleverness,seeping warmthbehind the shyness,but it is there,something in the depth of those eyesI know not,maybe deceit and treachery. (c)boringbug Continue reading Depth
I lay afloat in the covet of my emotions, basking in the glory of my thoughts,blossoming like a flower nurtured within. (c)boringbug Continue reading Covet
Looking in hindsight, the world looks jumbled, as I glance over my shoulder the shadows loom, aware not that I am the light they so desperately seek. (C)boringbug Continue reading Light
In you, I shall trust,but would thou trust me back? (c)boringbug Continue reading Trust
Burnt to the coretwisted, directed, and anchored, the words remain protected in my thoughts,for they touch your soul not the greed. राख रुखमहफूज़ हैखयालों में,मखमय मेहरूफशब्द है मेरे,मलमय नहीं। ©boringbug Continue reading Words (शब्द)
The boring bug 