March

March came with rare lessons learnt perhaps, its better to leave some bridges burnt Follow @themusingquill on Instagram for more micropoetry. I await you there. 🙂 ~~~~~ Asha Seth

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Nomad

she eclipsed his nomad soul from the storms of  self despair Follow @themusingquill on Instagram for more poetry. I await you there. 🙂 ~~~~~ Asha Seth      

Alone

The toughest part always is walking down the same lanes alone Follow @themusingquill on Instagram for more poetry. I await you there. 🙂 ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Ruins

when I returned lost and beaten through the woods to reach where I belong no one was there to welcome me except the scorching trail and the ruins beyond ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Life

Perhaps, life was not a mystery to be solved but an adventure to be kissed Hello reader, I hope you are enjoying my poems. With the micropoetry series, I am inviting prompts for writing poems. Do share your one-word prompts you would love to see etched in a poem and I shall love to oblige.... Continue Reading →

सुनहरी यादें…

सूरज की लौटती किरणों के संग हताश तन्हाईयाँ वापस लौट गयीं सुनहरी यादों से लिपटी यह शाम एक बार फिर हमें ज़िंदादिल कर गयी... ~~~~~ आशा सेठ

Melancholies

Wouldn’t it be wonderful to be draped in melancholies and yet be smiling at the stars above? How do you like my new micropoetry format? Like it? No? Do share your thoughts below. Follow @themusingquill on Instagram for more poetry. I await you there. 🙂 ~~~~~ Asha Seth

The Micawber

she turned time to dust and with its immortal remains draped the unfair turns canopied the unkind curves time had strewn in her path and left her homeless, hopeless she was ready now to revel in time's wreck to rise from its hell ~~~~~ Asha Seth

Indifference

it doesn’t matter  whether days fuse into nights or seas dissolve into the skies you carry on breathing the same air eating the same dust as the day you were born like the day after you die ~~~~~ Asha Seth

No Home for My Poem…

cut me open there’s no blood left to spill veins will only squirt dejected hopes rip me limb to limb only words will tumble forth stories waiting to escape will find their way out to the hearts of those who doubted disbelieved and when I am dead my parodies will sing for me because in... Continue Reading →

वो पापा ही थे …

बारिश की उन रातों में डूबे हुए नम यादों में घूँट घूँट उन घंटों को पीते थे हाँ, वो पापा ही थे सुबह की न होश न खबर सूरज की किरणों से परहेज कर खाली बोतलों में अधूरे सपनों को समेटते थे हाँ, वो पापा ही थे ख्वाहिशों की शैय्या से दूर बुने अपने बेशर्त... Continue Reading →

A Chimera

she smiled with scars dearer to her heart than her own flesh and blood her own kin and kind everything had changed but resolutions, but fate  she wore the injustice of time proudly upon her wrists never fretting never regretting everything had changed but pride, but fate the hollows of her eyes housed a million... Continue Reading →

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