Blackout
Karma's Drama
Breaking news that breaks heart. Retired police officer lost his only son to armed robbery. His only child died on his way back home, after years of studies overseas. In deep grieve he hurried to the spot where his son was killed and remembered vividly back then when in active police service, he killed a young man coming back from studies overseas, he killed him and stole the valuables he came with; the valuables with which he became rich enough to send his son overseas for further studies. He killed him in the very spot where his son was killed.
By Stephen Lightpen2 years ago in Poets
The End
Welcome to the end Of the grand experiment Dying in a whimper Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.
By Atomic Historian2 years ago in Poets
I wish the scars of the soul could be seen
I wish the scars of the soul could be seen The scars that are inflicted deep within the soul often run deeper than the ones that are visible to the naked eye. Pain in its amorous embrace sets its fangs deeper into the crevices of the acts and syllables recorded in its intangible zest. Our heart knows moments that it tries its best to bury inside the depths of its brevity. There is both beauty and severance in the transitory moments of life. It has the most radiant days and the most desperate of nights. There are moments of light and joy and then there are moments of darkness, of hours of plight that behold and bemoan on us for being pure.
By Hridya Sharma2 years ago in Poets
