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Kenny Raines
Niggt of the living dead" oil underpainting
IamAnand
Only the dead have seen the end of war.
Seagrette Omi Ngaihlian
The last resort The only medium I could resort to When my days are gray, When I need you most But heaven forbids are - dreams. In my dreams do I, Seek for a glimpse of you. Each night I get fixed on turning my dreams into a cynosure for us both.. And each time I see you, Waking up is expendable.. Sometimes I feel my dreams As though they were reality. There's nothing I could do, When reality strikes me hard and I wake up thinking you were there, But you were gone-long gone. Now,I only have my dreams As the last resort to see you. But even then,not in all my dreams Were you there.. For I had no control over it. #dreams#a cynosure of the dead and the living
Lakshmi Menon
He was a passionate paranormal investigator, Yet skeptical. For many nights he covered sites, Which had the reputation of being haunted. Some nights he could record some inaudible noises, Some nights he got nothing. His disillusionment turned into desperation making him vulnerable. Until one night, during one of his investigations, He saw her. She first made contact with him in the deserted ECT room, Where during a ghastly therapy session, She stopped breathing and lost her life, She was a brilliant pianist and a child prodigy. But like most artists, she had a troubled life, The piano was her comforter and rescuer. Until one day, she got so involved in composing a piece, She forgot all track of time. She fell unconscious due to exhaustion, And opened her eyes in the hospital. To the world she was a lunatic, But she was only an artist who wanted to play the piano. When he heard her story, he realized. To see ghosts, you must first believe in them. For when you are desperate and call them, They will come. Because they trust you, And your pain... ©Lakshmi Menon The 5th Story of the Voice of the Dead series. Unheard melody #lostfeelings
Lakshmi Menon
The little girl walked along the long corridor, Holding her mother's hand, Months later her mum had taken out the time, To visit the haunted ruins of Bhangarh. It has been stressful since the single mum, Had moved to the Pink City. The little girl had heard so much about the iconic ruins, Her mum had to give in to her pester pressure. As they passed by one of the rooms on the top floor, She glanced at the battlements. Stood there her mum, dressed in a red native dress. And she was holding a little girl's hand, Who looked exactly like her. Before she could call out her name, They both jumped into the step well below . She stared in horror when her mum tapped her on her shoulder, She looked back and hugged her mum. As they both turned to leave, she turned back to look at the battlements, The little girl smiled and waved back, There was a wound near her brow The little girl felt her forehead, There was a birthmark exactly in the same place. Bhangarh's lost souls have been waiting for their redemption... ©Lakshmi Menon The 4th story of the 'Voice of the Dead' series. The little girl of Bhangarh #Ancienthistory #bhangarhfort