The Mouth-piece, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written in 2009 yet. It belongs to my short story volume The Masquerade of Cycle of Existence. I wrote it by my fantasy, all resemblance may be by chance. I hope you will enjoy its sarcasm and special atmosphere.
The Mouth-piece, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written in 2009 yet. It belongs to my short story volume The Masquerade of Cycle of Existence. I wrote it by my fantasy, all resemblance may be by chance. I hope you will enjoy its sarcasm and special atmosphere.
Its true that we all wear the masks for some reason. But, the poet here has a question that why are people always so interested in counting our feelings hidden behind the mask. Why can’t they just take us with our masks? There is a reason why we put this mask, why can’t everyone just let it be.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. This is its Hungarian version.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. This is its Hungarian version.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. This is its Hungarian version.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. This is its Hungarian version.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. Its Hungarian version I will share after the English one.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. Its Hungarian version I will share after the English one.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. Its Hungarian version I will share after the English one.
The Tree, by J. W. Cassandra. My short story was written during the brushwood-fires of Australia. I recommend it to my dear friend, Ritika Nahata. The short novel belongs to my volume of short stories titled “Masquerade of Cycle of Existence”. Its Hungarian version I will share after the English one.
I awakened from my deep slumber into a world you may not understand. I don’t quite understand it either. In fact, I don’t understand a lot of the immediate events that are about to occur.
Emily Dickinson, through this poem, tries to find an answer to the question, “Why do I love?”. And this “You” and “sir” could be a reference to God as well.
Throughout the poem, she keeps asserting that there is no reason for her love for him. It comes naturally to her and is a very part of her existence.
If the poet had the beautifully decorated cloths of heaven made with golden, silver and dark light he would spread them under his beloved’s path. But he is poor and can’t give her beautiful clothes. He can give her only his dreams. Therefore he has spread his dreams on her way. And he requests her to walk softly because his dreams may be broken easily. The poet wishes he had the cloths of heaven.
This poem is a perfect word of wisdom for all the people. This tells you the importance of today. The fact that you are able to breathe, it gives you the list of possibilities, the buffet of the courses of action from which you can wisely choose the best one.
