The moon leaned close to the sea and said,
“Tell me what you hide in your restless depths.”
And the sea, in its endless breathing, replied—not in words, but in waves that trembled with memory: of ships that vanished without farewell,
of sailors who dreamed beyond the horizon, of songs no shore could ever keep.
The moon listened—its silver hush scattered across the dark—touching the surface like a fragile thought, as if afraid the truth might break.
It gathered stories of longing and return, of storms that shattered and calms that healed, of tides that pulled distant hearts into one quiet rhythm.
And in the stillness between two waves, the moon spoke again—of lovers it had watched in silence,
of promises made beneath borrowed light, of nights that carried more truth
than the day could ever bear.
Thus they remained—the sea that remembers,and the moon that listens—bound not by distance,
but by the secret language
of reflection and depth.
Apr 28
Apr 28, 2026 at 10:09 AM UTC
Among thousands of faces passing by Bearing the same name: human
But no longer knowing each other
This city grows tall
Touching the dark sky
We are busy building towers
Forgetting to build bridges And here,
I am still waiting for you At the same stop
Even though I know the train will no longer stop
On a worn track We have become strangers
Even to myself Who every morning pretends To be the version the world wants
Oct 5, 2025
Oct 5, 2025 at 2:14 AM UTC
You're not just a laborer, you're a source of value!
You carry the burden, you build, but you're the one with the lightest pockets!
They call you "hard workers," but that's just a cover-up to cover up the "harsh system" that saps your energy! Don't ask "what for," but ask "why" — why do you produce everything, but all you get are scraps?
Your fatigue isn't destiny, it's evidence of structural injustice!
Unite, because you're the ones who should be —not the ones being trampled on— but the ones who determine the direction of history!
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 6:41 AM UTC
The dry leaves are shaken off by the wind
The wind softly whispered in the tired of the dizzy climate
The land regenerates willingly on the animals that inhabit it
The leaves are ready and willing to be eaten by insects, worms and slugs
Trees that soar high reaching the sky have been tested by various storms as if they are still strong even though they are old but still protect every habitat below them
His organs seemed willing to die and regenerate because that was the sacrifice of his life
When the harvest season arrives, it's not uncommon for him to be ****** or his branches deliberately broken to get something, but he still reciprocates by giving the fruits he produces.
His sacrifice will still not be in vain and while expressing gratitude to the Creator for what has been given
He is the only one who lives in that area
Others have died to life, or have even been cut down by humans in the name of civilization
He is still a tree and will never turn into an animal
But with gratitude and reverence for his environment he is willing to stay silent and only move upwards to welcome the sunlight
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 5:53 AM UTC
Beneath the vast and silent sky,
The stars awaken, twinkling high.
A symphony of light and grace,
In endless realms of boundless space.
Each star, a note in cosmic tune,
Their rhythm sways beneath the moon.
Through ancient whispers, they proclaim,
The story etched in heaven’s name.
Their voices hum through midnight's veil,
A melody that cannot fail.
It speaks of lthe night sky as a vast, silent stage where stars awaken and form a symphony of light and grace. Each star becomes a musical note in the cosmic melody, telling ancient stories through their shimmering dance. The stars symbolize love, dreams, and the shared connection of all hearts—young and old alike. The constellations weave a tapestry of belief and wonder, reminding humanity to look upward and find meaning and harmony within the stars’ eternal glow. Ultimately, the poem suggests that the universe’s celestial music mirrors the inner symphony of the human heart.ove, of dreams untold,
Of hearts both tender, young, and old.
The constellations dance and weave,
A tapestry that we believe.
In every flicker, every gleam,
Lies fragments of a distant dream.
Oh, mortal soul, lift up your gaze,
Embrace the stars' eternal blaze.
For in their light, we find our part,
The symphony within our heart.
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 5:37 AM UTC