Down the deep dungeon,
The corridors dark.
Screams of the prisoners,
Echoed on the cold stones.

Bleeding and in pain,
Some were half-dead .
How many came and went,
No one counted.

The castle was majestic,
All glorious and lit.
Prisoners were tokens –
Of victory and valor.
Questions rang,
In those helpless souls –
How are we enemies?
What is our sin?


Stay Blessed 🙂
— Priya Pramod

Copyrights : Priya’s Visuals , PC: Pexels


You flow in between the clock ticks
You don’t pause
You don’t look back
nor you are afraid of whats in store.

You flow unaffected
As you pass
You take in all the pain and bruises
You are the healer of all wounds.

You flow without complain
You don’t have a start nor an end
You are infinite
You are eternity.

You are the game
And you are the player
Life melts through your hands
You don’t pause
You don’t look back
nor you are afraid of whats in store.

–Priya Pramod

Copyrights : Priya's Visuals PC:Pexels

It’s OK !

Hey ! You beautiful soul,
Its OK to let go .
You can’t hold on to all.
When they cling ,manipulate,
You believe you should hold,
Even if you suffer!
Wish them understood your pain.
But No! And It’s OK too.
Turn your head , look around,
There is goodness out there!
Give that your soul,
Your are needed.
So , it’s OK to let go !

Positively 😊
Priya Pramod

Copyrights : Priya's Visuals PC:Pexels

Dear 2018

Hey! 2018,

When I turn back and look,

I see myself standing at your start –

worried, confused and dejected.

You held my hand and walked with me

I was learning…

To forgive those who hurt me, for myself

To hold the few who loved me, safe in my heart

To treasure the goodness that I found, amidst chaos

To correct my mistakes, for the rest of the journey

Thanks for your company

Good bye 2018…

Happy New Year 🙂

— Priya Pramod


The one always complained,
That the other snatched the earth’s lap,
And took away the treasures,
Without question.
The one always feared,
That the other won everywhere
Making the one fall behind
Into depths of envy.
The one always struggled
Bruised by the praises of the other
That were razor sharp
Piercing the soul
The one always decided
To find fault in the other
That The one will be always right
Born of the same flower
They were two in all sense.

–Priya Pramod