She was curled among the grass roots surrounded by the overgrown nettles. Untamed .
Her hair matches the faded colour of the

pile of dried wheat as it was ripped from the earth ; left to starve .
She was vulnerable
The wind petted her back soothingly as it passed: it acknowledged that the only moisture that the plants would receive will be her tears in abundance .

The bluebells were bereft of life and its colour resembled the bruises that the girls fingers had left in her arm .Her fingers, wet with with tears. She had began to rock herself gently , barely raising her head from the ground .She listened with her mood somber as the floods of grievances overwhelmed her .The hair on her arms had began to stand .
Her shuddering turned to shaking and to spasms. Emotional convulsions as she clutched at her chest.
In the midst of this, the debris on her head once was a collection of well kept golden threads . Her hair had gotten gradually darker as the wind returned but this time it belonged to the monsoon.
It came.
It came rowdy and uncivilised.It came enraged and savage . It’s clouds pelted the rain as it banged on house roofs and clawed at windows. The plants were the only thing that nourished in this revolution.

She wore the rain well .

The girl stood up and the thunder cackled whilst he light in flashes the sky like a warning signal. The girl had began to walk-she was coming .
The lightning’s reflection was in her eyes and the thunder rippling through her body.

She began to run


Short story ❤️



‘He runs and runs and never stops continuing for eternity-

near breaks and stumbles but promises that will not break keep him on his search for a remedy – 

the bonds that will be broken – 

the sacrifices chosen carelessly so the shadows will keep on chasing him so he stays running for eternity.’

– Shaza

Strange poem strange mood 


“In more contact with our ego than our individuality”-Shaza

We need to raise our self esteem by realising we were always beautiful .From there on we can focus on the important things like creativity 

Parallel lines

Parallel lines,

Disconcertingly similar

But not the same.

Parallel lines,

Never meet.

But we have,


Parallel lines, 

Go on forever.

But we can’t,

Not forever.

Not just degrees ,

Between us,

But worlds .

See you ,

Live in a book,

I read.”-Shaza

Plot twist