Author: Rema Pisharody

Surviving a storm is easy, Storms forge not a filler of conceits It is natural, it’s roar artless, Yet like

There hides one earth in our heart A garden of blossoming flowers A Season of spring and a summer Of

Tears are not mere droplets but a rivulet, flowing from the broken chambers of a heart that has failed to

All wars find a place, A place to end; In broken hearts In lost dreams In peace memorials! Until then

Seek not for always a seamless sky Wait not always for a flawless fate Stand not in line always to embrace the