On Brooding & Action

Nov 24, 2022

1 min read

By Azaan Izzam

A large body unmoving,

Still space circling a long minute hand in a clock that is not wound for years.

Frail tune weaking sound itself.

Yet behind eyes something pulls and drags and pushes violently…

like a wordless drama.

Pathetic pangs of thunder and unrest.

Shut up and do the dishes!

By Azaan Izzam

Recent Posts

By Rufaida Manzoor I stood beside the silent lake, With eyes that felt no urge to break. My hair fell low in shadows deep, The waters...

By Anveeksha Reddy You fill my books with your ink, seeping into the pages bright and brilliant The words etched into the cracks of it,...

By Anveeksha Reddy You tear my skin and pick on my bones I label it as gluttony for you Churning and shattering the remains of my...