The sky has turned into a writer’s pen, writing many colors. I watch a faded leaf fall to the ground. Bird wings are gliding like a symphony. The sky resembles the shape of many ribs. Yes slowly I watch the darkness spread like cheese on a bread piece. All these are my friends and I am not lonely anymore.
Anand Bose 1 Minute
Published by Anand Bose
I am a Hellenic Philistine driven by the mad pursuit of aestheticism, an existential nihilist and post modern deconstructionist. I am also a Christian Apologist. View all posts by Anand Bose