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  • ankit0305 18w


    The night which starts with a fire,
    And the silver mist all around,
    Settling some on my face,
    With the snowy glitter which travels along.

    The limbs which have gone numb,
    A music that bone coarsely makes.
    With silence covered infinitely,
    A flight of memories which it takes.

    The trees saw the early eves,
    Some mountains turning white from grey,
    And the rusty leaves settled on the windowpanes,
    They have been cold for long some say.

    Ankit Jaiswal

  • ankit0305 40w

    She trekked and scaled the highs
    Leaving the green valley behind in cast
    Ascending in the foreign land of echoes
    The dwell which this woman will last ❤️


  • ankit0305 66w


    She likes the mountains,
    The one with white snow and granite.
    The one which flows down the valley,
    And disappears into the unknown.

    She sees a soul in them
    Treks the thick fog and the roaming voices
    Until her heart sinks in tranquility
    And then she adores the paused snow.

    She trekked and scaled the highs
    Leaving the green valley behind in cast
    Ascending in the foreign land of echoes
    The dwell which this woman will last.

  • ankit0305 85w

    The kid held a heart,
    A heart full of void but some stars.
    And people did try to take a glimpse inside,
    A glimpse which can't be seen from afar.

    He liked the lamenting rains,
    And a snowy mountain with a peak.
    More he climbed and took the breathe,
    Stood there with his thoughts in disbelief.

    The sorrow began to disarm then,
    With the inability to express, to speak, to write,
    The snowy mountain still stood high,
    Even if the snow on his lap died.


  • ankit0305 111w

    @writersnetwork @readwriteunite

    The kid who felt left out in a different place. What happened to him? Stay tuned!

    Read More

    A kid held a dream
    Close to his timid heart,
    With the green apron of school
    Once again he made a Start.

    He decided to move mountains
    All on his own,
    This irked some eyes
    The timid became alone in the lawn.

    The pressure was tough
    But so was his grit,
    Neither appreciation nor the regard
    He realised he will not fit.

    The void began to sneak in
    And the lows started to descend,
    Eyes saw it as froward
    And the wrongs started to append.

    The lunch box remained silent
    As all the gloomy walks he would take,
    In an arid of the forest
    With neither a creek nor a lake.


  • ankit0305 119w

    As she steps into the dawn,
    I hold my tired breathes,
    Hairs fluttering in the breeze,
    Seems so much unstressed.

    The love bloomed her wings,
    When together and near,
    Now it's growing deeper,
    Miles apart and with each passing year.

    The extinct is hauling,
    A swirling storm inside,
    Couldn't hold it much,
    Heaven knows I tried.


  • ankit0305 120w

    It's been a decade,
    That I am in here,
    A presence someone makes,
    And leaf falls in some pair.

    The leaf crumbs has been heard,
    Crackling the sound was,
    They are coming for a soul,
    For whom I did dress up.

    The place which sorrounds,
    Is a grievous grave,
    With the epitaph,
    Still fresh on the lips.


  • ankit0305 122w

    The day seemed quiter today,
    With the old ranch in rust,
    I missed the very existence,
    When your presence was must.

    When the dewy wind sighed,
    And the rain made a lamentation,
    A dainty fare made appearance,
    The December i lost in creation.

    Amid the silver winter stars,
    Beneath the pure driving rain,
    You blossomed like the daffodils,
    The precious petal unfurls when.


  • ankit0305 123w

    I live in disguise,
    I live in debt,
    I try to hide,
    With mask of else.

    With some brief delight,
    With discontent in the sight,
    I watch my memories,
    Which are talking a flight.

    With a fading fidelity,
    I move to the scattered rocks,
    In a dreadful journey which,
    A fortune may cost.


  • ankit0305 124w

    The sweetest pain for sometime,
    Has been my guest,
    For passionate and tiresome me,
    They never rest.

    Like a dew drop she is,
    The oceans have never seen,
    It's among the most appealing things,
    She ever has been.

    Like a distant home she is,
    I long to see,
    In the bloom of her eyes,
    Where the crescent moon wants to be.