From The Quill

Stories reincarnate themselves; with time, they refuse to perish. Instead, they change forms. From the wise men who once told tales, to the handwritten books and printed texts, audios, ebooks and visuals, Motion pictures and animation. Stories don't die. They always find a way to reach your heart. ~ Suranya

In between surviving the apocalypse.  Breathing and being unable to breathe,  Living yet not being alive,  Loneliness, depression, anxiety.  Sleepless nights and unsaid words,  Happiness momentarily stops by  As I find bliss in You. You soothe the broken heart with hope,  Mend the scattered dreams to cope  Let's not fool the world, shall we?  Let's not tell them we are alone in bliss. We crave someone to stay and keep. A hand to hold, a voice to reassure. A hug so warm that worries melt. Attention, validation, momentary crushes,  Temporary things can make you happiest.  Yet you crave the fights and hurt,  Permanent tattoos in your heart.  In a world where options are plentiful  Yet distances as a compulsion,  Never could be easy! Has the heart stopped looking? Has the soul stopped calling? Pray not, it keeps the kindled spirit burning.  ~ Suranya

She hid the bruises beneath the full sleeves. The concealer perfectly hid the blue patches and dark circles. Taking his arm with a smile, she walked into the party, ready to play the perfect wife. After all, her parents had reassured her, "It will be alright. He loves you." Of course he did. Every time he hit her and apologised. He said so. Voices echoed in her head every time she forced a laugh. "No one should know of this. You can't walk out just like that. We won't be able to show our faces in society!" ~ Suranya

 My salty tears turn themselves  Into oceans of turbulent emotions;  In the darkest night  When the moon cannot shine through,  Even the most transparent soul,  Thick blanket of clouds  Of doubts overshadow the light  You refuse to come to my view, O sleep! That takes me to lands beyond my reach,  The soul feels trapped in the mortal body now. Perhaps waiting to be released.  I seek an identity beyond this face,  A recognition beyond this name.  My hands reach out in the darkness in vain,  Find only names, titles, and relationships That sinks my soul further into mortality. © Suranya