Mines-of-literature; where the words themselves are Masters, Workers, and Golds.



You Have Come To Me, But…

Under the Umbrella

Lost in search of you

I lost every precious me, In search of you.


Once in a lifetime but always in memories

“Papa, what is that? Why are we burning it?” “Your mother. She is dead!”

The lost lord

It was, no doubt, autumn. The wretched leaves, which conquered the world once, however, were now in a vulnerable state. Enshrouded with the rainbow mantelpiece, the leaves were easily carried away by the balmy breeze. They flew hither and thither... Continue Reading →

Wish you were here

Wish you were here, Comforting me by showing the starry sky, When I get drowned in the melancholic ocean by seeing the widow moon.

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