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Quote by Dishebh Bhayana

“7 Angry Men A few gentlemen, occupy a room They laugh and talk and gossip and croon Whatever they do, they do in unison Until it was time to leave, for the night is done The first agonized, with rain but no cover The second agathed over the fallen quarter The third in a hurry, stubbed his toe The shriek he incurred, woke those below The fourth, drunk enough, walked but failed The fifth, nonchalant about his car being towed The sixth, why, he can't leave Until everyone is gone, and hands over the keys! Seven angry men, They reside in a room Last one, you ask? Ah, beware - it might just be you”

Quote by Dishebh Bhayana

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Dishebh Bhayana

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“Christmas Hyacinths The air grows cleaner with each sight
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Without heaviness and sighs. Winter closes in on each street,
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“I hear the train’d soprano (what work with hers is this?) The orchestra whirls me wider than Uranus flies, It wrenches such ardors from me I did not know I possess’d them, It sails me, I dab with bare feet, they are lick’d by the indolent waves, I am cut by bitter and angry hail, I lose my breath, Steep’d amid honey’d morphine, my windpipe throttled in fakes of death, At length let up again to feel the puzzle of puzzles, And that we call Being.”

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