Cold Gray Mornings

They say that there is light up ahead.... May be there is too little to be seen. Or may be... Am just blind.




Yes. I woke up to yet another cold and gray morning. I am left with empty visions of a world where silent whisperers scream into thin air. I suffer from memories of a time, so long ago. I miss simplicity. I fear those eyes... scornful eyes - dripping with contempt and disdain. I long for warmth. I run and hide behind invisible walls. I faint and fall off to wake up briefly before I hit the ground. Again.. my eyes open to a cold and gray morning.


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"When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence" - Ansel Adams

In this space you will find images and words. It is upto you to weave 'em together and see what I see.