You Know What They Say About The Young

You Know What They Say About The Young

You know what they say about the young, souls driven by the endless thrill of wild love and naive adventures, their stories written with flightless dreams, and a ceaseless will to burn and yearn. ~ Ashka Naik | The Silent Scribbler

Her Voice

Her Voice

I hear stars singing to me Am I hallucinating? Is it that my longing has been put off? Her voice that carved through all my raving nerves, bitten by love, accustomed to partings. Are stars singing to me as her or is she a star now? —KM

Waiting on You

Waiting on You

Some days I find myself floating in the dark, the sound of your voice falling around me like sparks from a firework gone wild, the secrets that you left with me lie numb under my dazed heart, and I’m still  here, waiting on you. ~ Ashka Naik | The Silent Scribbler

My Last Goodbye

My Last Goodbye

My last goodbye was uttered in whispers. Even then, the spaces between my words burned. We were strong, but I wasn’t. You were mine, but I wasn’t. How could I belong to you, when I couldn’t even belong to myself? ~ Ashka Naik | The Silent Scribbler

By Autumn, I Was Left With Nothing

By Autumn, I Was Left With Nothing

Every summer, your hands would find paper only to pick the finest metaphors to create me. I would come alive in your poetry – intoxicated like the summer rain. And by Autumn, I was left with nothing but scattered syllables and a million stories to tell. ~Ashka Naik | The Silent Scribbler

Summer Moved On

Summer Moved On

” Summer moved on without a promise”, I heard your voice say on the other side, as your footsteps walked back to the table where you let your favorite roses die, back & forth, back & forth, back & forth, until your fingers were half an inch from throwing them out, but no – you had …

+ Read More

What if…

What if…

If we are walking together and I stop, would you turn back to hold my hand? If ever we get apart, Would you give me one fake smile to remember forever? If ever I lose trust in you, Would you return to build that trust again? If ever I cry for you, would your tears …

+ Read More

Just a Metaphor

Just a Metaphor

You run wild in the streets when the wind blows too hard and the rain hurts your skin, you rake the sky of its clouds and look for me in the spaces between each raindrop, but stop now, I am tired of being a metaphor.

The Journey Of Wanting

The Journey Of Wanting

Do not run madly after things that your heart craves for. Always watch your step, take a breath lest it all becomes hollow, meaningless. People forget that more than the things that you want, it is the journey that takes you to it that holds more meaning. That makes it all more, more meaningful. In …

+ Read More

Sand and Waves

Sand and Waves

Your heart was a just like the sand,No matter how much I tried tocarve my name,everytime it got washed away with waves.I couldn’t see that,It made my heart break.Watching waves washing away my name again and again, Looking at you, craving for someone else.I had to let you go,Because I couldn’t take thatheartache anymore.Perhaps my …

+ Read More