A bottle of you
- by Bhuwan Thapaliya
I often carry with me, a bottle. And at tense moments, when the Moon sweats
- by Bhuwan Thapaliya
I often carry with me, a bottle. And at tense moments, when the Moon sweats
- by Arjun BK
As I often miss you, there is no other way than to visit your profile Although going to your profile may not notify you about my love but your heart might have been notified by my heart I rarely react to your photos But when you post a photo, I will be the happiest.
- by Moin Uddin
There's so much of chaos going on in mind What to do and what not to do makes us grind It takes so much of energy and we don't even know it We are left paralyzed but no one notices it.
- by Parbat Lawati
Seeing that child I felt like pinching Who couldn’t allude
- by Biken K Dawadi
Fighting my demons, Alone in the dark. Chasing a mirage, Leaving no mark. Out in the darkness, Out in the night, Nothing can reach me, Nothing but blight.
- by Ramchandra KC
It had been 6 weeks since I arrived in the United States from Nepal.The year was 2013. I was scouting Brighten Avenue in Boston in search of a job. I was with my friend, Ritesh, who came to the US two months before my arrival.
- by Moin Uddin
And then again we met Life came back and was all set
- by Sushant Thapa
When shadows are more darker than the soul within , which is lighter The sanity in me drives me insane. I am ordinarily engulfed by detachment sipping in me like a chilling fever
- by Lazzana Goverdhan
Lying beside my ruins conceived through grave storm Blowing away all safe spaces; making me cold
- by Rajeeb Shrestha
A rowdy rendered into the rhetoric of Reading and writing reckoning the riot Leaving thud of throb as he scrawled and scribbled The resolution of stray constellations
- by Bhuwan Thapaliya
As a gust of wind sends the curtains flapping wildly, I wonder about our future. The future is signaling us to go back. The Future is telling us to stop where we are now. But we pretend not to hear.
- by Sushant Thapa
A poet of the word Where my pen meets and cuddles, my withering intuitions You are my subject of interrogation Your voice is the howl Of the slumbering ego
- by Moin Uddin
Sometimes I wonder that what's the point of missing her if she doesn't have feelings I try to let go of her thoughts but that keeps nagging Sometimes I wonder does she think of me like I do think of her in evening I try to forget her by consoling heart that its over and I've to let go of feelings.
- by Parbat Lawati
With autumn, again the Jacaranda is nude And the Sun is limited. Some kids, in the steel bin, light a warm flower Seeking spring and summer.
- by Lazzana Goverdhan
Letting few tears escape every night I find myself immensely weak and weary Unable to fight my demons, I lay there, frozen Like a lifeless mannequin When I'm at my weakest point; I know You want to be there I want to speak.
- by Parbat Lawati
Fishing sister! Tell me how much fish you caught? Are they to illuminate the moments with your own? Or, are you taking them to market?
- by Amrit Poudel
The urge to learn more The urge to speak in front of the public The urge to be at the top
- by Biken K Dawadi
Mother.... The light is fading, darkness invading the realms of men,