Sukanya Basu Mallik
Abstract Fantasy
A writer weaves words,
They birth concepts
And create worlds.
They're mothers in a true sense,
For their lessons shall be cherished,
Generation after generation.
Sublime
He
Rain
No Idea
Oriental Roma...
Sensations
Dreams Of My ...
Cure
Muffins And C...
Sea
As I risk my beliefs to fall in love with a heathen... As I risk my beliefs to fall in love with a heathen...
You know bub It all comes back Sure does You know bub It all comes back Sure does
In me Death resides. Life still dwells In me Death resides. Life still dwells
So, the debate between friendship and love flares up again; It’s been quite long, with the situatio... So, the debate between friendship and love flares up again; It’s been quite lon...
Lovely... Lovely...
How many different people Are there inside you? How many different people Are there inside you?
Playing with words.. Playing with words..
Whom did you kill today? Anger, Anger Whom did you kill today? Anger, Anger
I bleed.... Red! I bleed.... Red!
How and when was the "Search of self", easy? How and when was the "Search of self", easy?
While we are small we say I want to be older, As we get older we say I want to be younger... While we are small we say I want to be older, As we get older we say I want t...
Long long years after thousands of flowers will bloom on this strange island with a golden color. Long long years after thousands of flowers will bloom on this strange island wit...
But what of the humans dying so???? But what of the humans dying so????
Together we'll paint the planet! Together we'll paint the planet!
They were searching for something, In the garbage heap. They were searching for something, In the garbage heap.
Hold on to your faith... Hold on to your faith...
And now though strange, we want the Mondays back Because we only pine for what is not and then wish... And now though strange, we want the Mondays back Because we only pine for what ...
She didn't question what she felt, Her fascination revolved around "the why?" She didn't question what she felt, Her fascination revolved around "the why?"
In darkest hours Of death, defeats, and loss and pain. In darkest hours Of death, defeats, and loss and pain.
However much we dissect time We do not reach its heart. However much we dissect time We do not reach its heart.
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