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The Storm

Updated: Feb 5

And from the thunderous gale that has erupted inside this new reality comes an overbearing silence that weighs down on my tired conscience. It gazes softly, like a flame watching over the sleeping lovers or a hand which gently caresses my weary soul. It passes over me like a wave of smoke, embodying me in a cloud. Comforting at first, the space becomes deafening and I soon become lost in this eternity, a scream lost in the nothingness that reduces to a murmur reverberating off the walls of my skull. To become everything -- a mode of the mundane morphing and mutating itself into a novelty of colours and fractals of light. But just for an instant. More smoke. And then the fall. As I tumble the storm buffets me- a reinvigorated force that has returned with beauty and span unimagined. I lay still. The Eye has passed. And now I am back here, and not there, once again.



Prakash Pandya


Prakash is from a small town in Southern Ontario, Canada. He enjoys running and often draws inspiration for his work through the landscapes he moves through. His favourite things to photograph are city nightscapes and sunsets.

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