- I couldn't hear when despair filled the air. Tears were my ink, sadness was my pen. A smile never crept unto my face until now. I've been tortured since yesterday. Maybe I was tortured my whole life.
- It wasn't just my muses that tortured me. So did my enemies. They've been haunting me ever since.
- This is how I depart from my asylum. And maybe edges of mine will be delicate.
YOU ARE READING
A Poet's Sojourn: His Compendium
PoetryTales of a poet that was saved by another poet: A collection of the poetry I wrote. I was trapped inside an endless void. I'm on the verge of going crazy- who said I wasn't?
