Maybe a drought bought me back here Or a rain My happiness bought me here or the pain.. I felt I'll lose the remains of writing left inside of me Or this silence will erode my mind.. Or worse, this fear would dictate my life.. What a wonderful thought it is to not think at all, scary but peaceful. So long I don't make sense anymore.. I don't try to carve my craft.. I don't rhyme anymore.. But the heat still alive under the charcoal pile, longs to stay.. Thank you for keeping up with my inconsistency.. Nikhil Batra , Asfa Mobin , Rishu Maharaj , @Rahul Kumar
