I am Nithin,16, living in kerala, India.
Well! I am not a born writer.I just love poetry and write down whatever emotion comes into my mind.To be honest, I don't exactly know how to write poems but I find it a medium to express my emotions... more »
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Nithin Pradeep Poems
The Lost Friend
He was lost in the depths of my random thoughts and an unfathomed heart He shall only be a memory; the tryst was unkept and promises in shambles
Confessions of a Woodcutter
I always stood for profanity In these years passed by, I was harsh The axe was tampered with an unconscious branch here, a rotten flower there
As the universe starts off its day, with new hopes of revival four children, strangers by birth yet, bonded by an unconditional friendship
The dew inspires, not the light
The scented nature.. soothing me in my sleep, the blushing flowers and the rays from the heaven, shall make better
A Sweet Drowning
Deep within, though an unmanned cave so pristine, the river love in all its glory flows. in bursts of exuberance overwhelming my senses, I hopelessly fall prey to the river and drown
Within me the remains of a faint graffito, I etched on the walls of my fractured heart. The fluxion of an illogical joy so jest, I am bound to a timescale I call my past.
Forever smitten by the tempest in her eyes, and wish for a place in her own tiny vestibules, i walk.. haphazard, in frenzy, fold my parchments of thoughts when all the distance in crude black fades..
Addicted-Truly, deeply, madly
To you, truly, madly and deeply, stranger addicted is this innocent boy when love outshone my innocence paved its way in, kissed my heart
I am the Autumn. Falling uneasily on the face of this earth. Yet, expelling frustration in my own style Even without tears, for I know not what are tears
Monsoon's Unconditional Love
I am the monsoon pouring heavily on the face of this earth Yet failing to conceal the misfortune of having been blamed
Comments about Nithin Pradeep
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Lost Friend
He was lost in the depths of my
random thoughts and an unfathomed heart
He shall only be a memory; the tryst
was unkept and promises in shambles
Be it not a journey to eternity
but a mere cause to rekindle
the latent spirits of a miserable heart
Seeking purity of a friendship
resting in my impulsive thoughts
Only if I had this friend forever....
who dared speak his heart, not brain
Mending my thoughts and rejuvenating from it
a passion; a new belief; a sense of life
Rescuing me from the sombre mood of solitude
and from the hands of soft-spoken and...