top of page
![](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/41d000_a5a016c0c12e235dd871ab8041e8bc40.png/v1/fill/w_96,h_58,al_c,q_85,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,blur_2,enc_auto/41d000_a5a016c0c12e235dd871ab8041e8bc40.png)
ILA Magazine
Where Culture Meets Creativity
Sonali Ray
Cadences flow from the soul
Meters, syllables,
Squirting up and down the veins
Twenty-six alphabets
Render blood the red tint.
*
Verses ain't a captive of
the mother tongue.
It's the medium of
expressing unvoiced feelings.
Words are like magma,
bubbling inside the pulpy
chasm
*
A tiny fissure and the lava
bursts hurriedly
down the crispy world
called pages, fabricating
magical concoctions.
It streams, unbeknownst.
It tugs countless hearts,
birthing endless hopes.
*
Poetry is a river, rising
from a soul's frigid capes.
The journey is a medley
of myriad emotions,
caressing hearts
until it blends with
the unsettled souls,
evoking unbridled dreams!
© Sonali Ray
![Sonali Ray](https://static.wixstatic.com/media/02948077648848b3b52597df30b7e6dc.jpg/v1/fill/w_680,h_385,al_c,q_80,usm_0.66_1.00_0.01,enc_auto/Image-empty-state.jpg)
bottom of page