• Quoth the Raven," said a glitching voice from the phone. "Nevermore," said the man. "Then the game has started

    Rao Umar Javed
  • Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor Eagerly I wished the morrow, - vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -- For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore –

    Rao Umar Javed
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