'The world is a conglomerate of diverse souls.All we need to connect with each other is a little bit of kindness.' Our life is mostly defined as the summation of our deeds between the first cry and the last breath. You,I and everyone of us wake up,work and sleep. But,we are different. Different in our ways to cope with …

One more time By Shanaya Stephens Carmine lips seduce the wine, That seeped in, With his touch divine, The ephemeral longing, fashioned raw and pure, In the deafening silence, At the dead of night, When his blue orbs, Steal her feminine shine, All bared beauty, Secrets and lies, Rummaged into a choir of desires, That sing countles…

The tale of the union by Shanaya Stephens With the masks all undone, Throttled and rummaged, Where another night tips in stilettos, Maddening crowd sighted afar, His hands secretly cup her bosom, Beneath the bars, Where caged devils, Unleash the fury, Of dark desires, That flow with the tick-tock of the time, As the clock hits pas…

Stumbled upon the stars, Amidst the ravenous dark, Glistening shadows, Dancing in the silhouette, Flames of passion, Engulfed thy in, As the bonfire lit up, Underneath the moon, Curtained with The clouds of shame, It peeked out astray, Two bodies charmed into one, A plethora of desires A losing battle, In the War-field of love, Blam…

A Gestapo's Rose by Shanaya Stephens   Darkness invaded the confined space of the garret as I made my way to the curtained window. Golden kisses graced my cheeks as sunlight entered through the tiny holes of the fabric. Simmering heat hung low in the summer air when another aircraft had hovered past the Polish skies.The grunting…

The Tiara by Shanaya Stephens Summer in Seattle is a must to die for. The air having its own balance of chill and heat, lavish l y sweeping off the streets and wide pavements as it enters the chambers of Marvin Mansion; through the unclosed windows who acknowledge its arrival with a shitter-shatter of their constituent wooden arms…

The Polaroid- A short story The Polaroid by Shanaya Stephens Saturday nights aren’t my kind of fun. Amidst the subtle parties and endless bouts of wines and drugs, the glimmering dance floor serves too many sins on a platter. Unasked, uninvited, every moment spent on the dance floor is an open-end invitation to a string of one nig…