The dying star bled dismally as we floated around it. If one were to trace our path , the lines… Read more Dying Star

The dying star bled dismally as we floated around it. If one were to trace our path , the lines… Read more Dying Star
In thought and in death, aspirations drop and sink. Downwards. Oh the weight of azure sky that rests on my… Read more Down
Things have been a little unusual lately… or so it would seem, had I not been paying attention and meticulously… Read more Fluid World: Voices
why have you been hiding your hands behind your face, my friend… your eyes are beautiful, but it is your… Read more friend, hand and heart
Charming, you present me your presence withholding the lines, nary a complete you a ghost to my touch, a shadow,… Read more fever; momentariness
When the world makes you cry, I feel something inside me die… lately, I’ve been feeling groundless… last night, in… Read more Groundless
You’ve successfully logged in to the network… What do you wish to do now? Confront the God of Geometry? He’s… Read more Semantic Death
A tide sits upside down on the rooftop of my grandfather’s cottage in the village… Tide turns and places a… Read more Away Flees my Mourning
I listen closely to the evening and search for the feeling in her heart. She looks back into my eyes… Read more Hello Death. This is my Poetry.
A man sits quiet on his usual chair His hands hold his heavy head high And grasps on tight to… Read more Understanding Death
A theatre (mostly review) blog with swag
A blog dedicated to flora, fauna and all the wonderful things in nature.
Weirdo Wasteland is an Australian-based music blog that examines musical endeavour from the cultural fringe. The site regularly features reviews and interviews from the underground scenes from Australia and New Zealand. Weirdo Wasteland acknowledges the original custodians of the land upon which it operates. Sovereignty has never been ceded. To get in touch, contact: weirdowasteland (at) gmail.com
Bird Silent
Ceaselessly Sinking In Aesthetic Art & Mediocre Metaphors
The scars of my soul bleed through words in the form of poetry.
Within the well of silence , are thoughts that awaken the soul.....
_aditi_jamwal