Lost in the busy world,

Where everything gets blurred.

Frozen like snow ,

and working to move things in a flow

Where dreams are no more into eyes

But seeing them grow infront of  eyes.






I love to watch the flares
settling down,
The walls gets illumined
through the window;
Sometimes disturbing while
Sometimes a pleasure.
I wait for the silent hour
of the night,
Because that’s the time
when the world sleeps
And my dreams arise!



swati_writes_The opening of the eyes
is something that I escape from.
The pillow on my face helps me to stay away from the truth,
Yes get up it’s too late now! 
Pushing myself for a new day has now become a big task.
Leaning towards the window
And staring at the pleasing view.

The rain drops falling on my face!
But again reminded,
And dragging myself for one more day.
Stepping out of the room feeling the chills and breeze
Oh, when is the day going to end

Take me to my bed back again! -Swati

And I Raised My Thoughts.


Happened not so long ago

When I found myself seated alone,

Lost in my own pile of thoughts,

Discovering the loud echo.

Staring blankly out of nowhere,

Where thoughts are sweeter.

From mind to heart and

From heart to pen and paper.

Scribbling the paper with my imagination,

Letting my thoughts turn into words.

Painting the reality.

With a little pinch of fantasy,

Keeping it Raw

And keeping it Real.


Christ, the Author of my Life.


I was a book which had been pushed on the rack,

In the midst of the ones whose covers reflect;

The pages were torn and turned yellow.

The threads which used to bind me

Became soft, thin and half-broken.

My words became unclear and faded.

Drowning in the dust, craving for someone to take care.

He wanted to write again,

To write my story with the ink that never fades.

He is the author of the stories within me

And the cover is now beyond imaginations.

Yes, I am a new series now

And He has kept me at the centre,

Because this time the pages are countless.