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Nothing has been heard.

I'm done with the metaphors. I'm done with the similes. I'm tired of analogies and trying to explain things by the means of examples. I'm exhausted. This might be the most raw post I've ever written,

Yours, Silence

Everyone strives for what they think they’re bound: pain a pound, love profound, and a life abound. But then, why do I seek to go back? What do I seek when I say I want to be back? Why do I wish to br

So long, Parthenon

Chauhan wonders what beauty others see in desolation.

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