You came as a wind,

splashing wild hues

in my blankness.

Then you went,

leaving an art half-done.


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When Poetry Arrives

fountain pen on text sheet paper with rose


I found it coming,

In the pitch-black numbness creeping in,
Silencing vague groans inside.
Sweating and fretting,
It stood there,
In the cul-de-sac of muddled thoughts,
For that one final gaze.

Then it fell,
Like the first rain drop,
Into my cavernous cracks,
Coaxing the dried up soul,
Taming my twisted tantrums,
Tying broken love chords,
That echoed bits of panicled past.

Like a smile, unfading,
It sprinkled ceaseless joy,
And let me breathe,
Soothing streaks of poetry.

Now I’m breathing,
Yet again.


Featured post

Micro Tale #10

Once met two travellers.
One spoke of the mighty hills, rocky terrains, blue skies and deep waters. And the other one, of different books.

~ Nila 🌸

Travel as much as you can. As far as you can. As deep as you can. To the corners of the world, to the caverns of your soul. To the core of those books you read,movies you watch and people you meet.






No less than a living corpse,

Whose fading breath

Feeding death

Within us, 

Without us.

Blue and bliss all at once.

~Nila Lenin 🌸

Micro Tale #8 

“How did your story make it this far?asked the little one.
“By putting commas where you normally put periods”,came the reply, followed by a pair of wrinkled smiles.

~Nila Lenin 🌸

Whenever life tries to put a period in your story, turn it into a comma and keep going till the last drop of ink penetrates into your profound. Go on. Pen down some more. 

Micro Tale#6

The ring that bears his name,

along with the first ray of sun

knelt down and prayed.


Miles away,on the battlefield,

A bullet missed its target.

~Nila Lenin


A heartfelt prayer never goes in vain. So will her love for him. A long distance relationship goal indeed.

Micro Tale #5

“What would you like, coffee or tea?” He asked her.

“Coffee is not my cup of tea” She replied with a wink.

~Nila Lenin


The long lost poem

I almost wrote,

With a wistful longing,

Too deep for words.

~Nila Lenin


Let me stretch my wings,

before breaking chains

and soaring high 

into the sky of dreams.

Let me fly,

for a golden cage 

is never a stage

for the growing inner sage.

~Nila Lenin

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