Stories and Me

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)v:-):-):-)v:-)v:-):-)v:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-) POETIC CONVERSATIONS: The black whirlpools have been too restless lately The tide is too high It's been a while How could it resist the sweet beckoning of the moon for so long? The dark horses have broken free again They are trampling around the woodland of my mind Rippling waves of raucous melody Running rampant, tireless Round and round they go The ground beneath my feet has been pretty unsteady lately More so than usual Tremors raking this cold and empty desert Sudden quakes Without warning Leaving behind fascinating patterns of cracks on the pillars of my humanity It's funny how things are built to fall apart Beautiful disasters left in the wake The shadows of past trailing behind Fading away with the strings of time I have been watching these scenes silently As a transfixed spectator I have loosened my grip on reality It feels good to float mindlessly on the oceans of fiery chaos It feel

The Incas     It is  believed that the Inca civilization of the eastern coast of South America,had rituals which was pretty spooky and could possibly give shivers even today, all in the name of greatness.    500 years ago, the Incan people selected a girl as a princess. She was a chosen one, out of all the girls in her generation; her sacrifice was what would keep them alive and functioning.    The Princess was sacrificed to their mountain God Sabancaya. An offering buried alive for an eternity in a dark tomb. The Princess remained there with a cursed seal placed on her hands as a warning to any who would wake her.If the seal was removed, the mummy would rise, and so would her protector, the spirit of the warrior awakened in a common man.The Inca Princess mummy could suck out the essence of people with a kiss on the lips...   Souls of others gave her the liveliness that she needed to be considered a normal person, or else she would be all bones and no skin.The soul-sucked

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)v:-):-):-)v:-)v:-):-)v:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-) 10th of October “In the last 30 and a half years, there has been NO trip to national library, or a visit to a bookshop.” Guess who stated this fact. Yep you are right our dear own Ms. R. Sachdev. This line left us all astonished. Why? Because let me tell you it was probably more pleasurable than 99.9% of the things that I have ever gone to visit. These trips are something that all of us look forward to, even if it is just to the top of an empty stairwell. Why? Because we are not just going to the top but on an adventure towards it… something that makes it more memorable.. All the hearts throbbing, pulsing with anticipation, that makes our blood race with adrenaline, making us notice every single tiny detail, not just keep it in the subconscious part of our brain but in our hearts forever. This October, the Morpheme went ouring. Yep you heard right… the bookish nerds went on an adventure. We tr

All this time While you were smelling thyme, I wasn’t the one making a rhyme I was eating lime, Doing a mime. my black hair is turning brown I have never worn a gown, But a crown? I have worn ....without a frown. The earth ain't divine, but my heart is fine, friends i have nine, my brain sucks..i can't think of a line Four i am still yet to score, I ain't a whore three, Please make me a free bee m begging on my knee I wannna be free two, booo, m your foe, one i am never done, I am the nasty cun, I love to make bun,ohhh ya its a pun! i opened my wing, now i am flying over the ring, i gotta thing for the ones who own this ring it makes me wanna sing of the days that passed by what the sign says i am i am not cause who i am is what nobody will ever see. i am a free bird .. who loves curd even if they do they wouldn't accept it for they themselves aren'

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:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)v:-):-):-)v:-)v:-):-)v:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-) Pink flowers Slow hours Define what is ours For those who are below Can never see them fresh as ever .. and surely dead as never ..

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)v:-):-):-)v:-)v:-):-)v:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-) The one who lives on… In the memory of a soul who may not be famous yet eminent enough to be remembered in our hearts even almost a year later. He, Rama Prasad Saraswati is here present not just as a candle’s flame but as a bonfire in our hearts which will never turn dim or ever even die out. I remember all those times when we used to sit together and enjoy… It was a sacred bond that we shared. Isn’t it strange that we don’t realize what we have when we don’t have it anymore? I remember all those times when I was younger and soi was he that is as young a retire old man can be. He used to take hold of our hands- my sister’s and mine in each of his… and take us out every single time we ended up in the city. He used to ask as what we wanted and get us treats of our own choices …no matter what they were but then my sister and were also decent humans and never asked for more than our share. I remember

:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-)v:-):-):-)v:-)v:-):-)v:-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-):-) STELLA GENRE: Historic Fiction/ Fantasy Tears are rolling down my cheeks; I have no idea where I’ll go. “What my fate is?” is something that I have left upon the stars. I am in the forest, it isn’t forbidden but something eerie does linger here. I looked around myself, “Trees and trees and trees with bees and bees and bees” I mused. I climbed up a tree, it had a thick and strong branch, “this will have to do!” I thought. I decided I would stay the night think about what to do the next morning. The darkness engulfed me into a deep slumber slowly while the owl’s distant hooting was my lullaby. ** I am Valeriana Stella Katherine Myranda. Yes that is a long name! I am named after my grandmother Katherine Zia Morgenstern; at least that was what her maiden name was before she was married to my father’s father, King Albert Sirius Myranda. Morgenstern refers to the Morning Star, it was her destiny. Y