Pratik Raj
Abstract Others
I praise you all day all night
I'll be waiting, a standby.
A good evil there
My master's here.
Be confident in your life and your own deeds.
Dear Diary
I clasp the pitcher to quench my thirst, Just then the claps of thunder... I clasp the pitcher to quench my thirst, Just then the claps of thunder...
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...
Who is this invisible man?... Who is this invisible man?...
Feelings are like crooked lines of our heartbeats, Staying inside... Feelings are like crooked lines of our heartbeats, Staying inside...
Winters crept in, the weathers chill, With misty morns and foggy nights... Winters crept in, the weathers chill, With misty morns and foggy nights...
Lovely... Lovely...
Playing with words.. Playing with words..
Very nice... Very nice...
Oh! What do I tell you about my plight! That's how I spend the wee hours of every night. Oh! What do I tell you about my plight! That's how I spend the wee hours of eve...
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...
Shadows of smeared grey afloat in a dusky eve. Bella, can you hear the sound of candles burning? Shadows of smeared grey afloat in a dusky eve. Bella, can you hear the sound of ...
But what of the humans dying so???? But what of the humans dying so????
And darling, I'm scared. Won't you take me home? And darling, I'm scared. Won't you take me home?
She was petite, with long hair neatly combed into a bun, Her eyes always carried the burden of he... She was petite, with long hair neatly combed into a bun, Her eyes always carr...
Together we'll paint the planet! Together we'll paint the planet!
Glued to the pages, she is now lost, In this new life and a new identity.. Glued to the pages, she is now lost, In this new life and a new identity..
They were searching for something, In the garbage heap. They were searching for something, In the garbage heap.
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 ...
It’s the money you think, that will make you happy? It’s the money you think, that will make you happy?