Cinquain
The Midnight Verses
M Mehran In the heart of Crescent City, where the streets hummed with the rhythm of life, a small, dimly lit café existed almost unnoticed. Its wooden sign read The Wandering Quill, and inside, the air was thick with the scent of coffee, old books, and dreams waiting to be written. This was not a café for casual visitors. It was a sanctuary for poets—those who spoke in metaphors, who could turn pain into music, and joy into prose.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Poets
The Whisper of Words
M Mehran The town of Eldridge had a secret. Not the kind hidden in dark corners or whispered in hushed tones, but a quiet magic that lingered in coffee-stained pages, fluttered between the lines of letters, and hummed softly in the hearts of its people. Eldridge was home to poets—real, unapologetic dreamers who believed in the power of words, even when the world outside scoffed at them.
By Muhammad Mehran4 months ago in Poets
