I don’t know, sometimes it’s like I’m holding a ladder upright, really tight with nothing to lean on; dreaming of climbing my way into the skies. I might fall on my face but at least I’d own it.


They say it’s sealed, the fate. That everything is written in the stars, in the lines of your palm and the wrinkles on your forehead. You don’t decipher but unravel and sometimes it’s too late. We believe in what we’re told; Who are we to say? Open your eyes, brother, it’s not the prophecy which…

Looking back

The past is filled with stories and the future, fantasies. This is now. Neither do I have a story nor a fantasy. The photograph I hold is dear to me; in it, I see a happy man. A possible story. A certain fantasy. How the tables have turned. I look at it and whisper “I…

Being unsure

Unsure of my actions Unaware of my fate Blinded by Faith What am I But a mere bird on a wire