In cold Kedarnath
the old temple bell - frozen,
until the alarm.
For reference: wikipedia.org/wiki/Kedarnath_Temple
On the road to reconciling the worlds within while reclaiming my journey, one story at a time.
yvrmirror.wordpress.com Instagram: mokradi_
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from mokradi_ and writers in Poets and other communities.
Spilling out the hands
of village boys after-school,
By mokradi_ 3 months ago in Poets
When I grow up, I want to be a thesaurus,
A veritable wordsmithing dinosaur.
I'd know every difference, distinction and nuance,
By Heather Hubler7 days ago in Poets
Though virtuous words his lips speak not, and all his deeds are ill.
If neighbour he defame not, there's good within him still.
By Maharajan T3 days ago in Poets
Jacob looked down at his chest. His skin was firm, his muscles sinewy. There was only the faintest shadow of a mark where the plastic drain had once been. Not even a scar, only a mere discolouration. He stroked his fingers over the spot, then over his arms reassuring himself that he was here, that there could be no mistake; he was, without a doubt, alive.
By Caroline Jane6 days ago in Fiction