Tag Archives: by Vrinda Nair

Read Poem: What is life?, by Vrinda Nair

An illusion or an introspection of our deeds We are puppets in someone’s hands Starting with aught and ending with griefs Restless souls, brooding over past Lost in the mayhem of snippets of life To be believed in nurturing but … Continue reading

Posted in 2020 Poetry, new poetry, poet, poetry, Poetry Festival, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , | 1 Comment