Rynical - Hello Poetry

Another sunrise— the words remain in my chest, heavy as always.

0

Mar 3

Mar 3, 2026 at 3:48 PM UTC

Another sunrise— the words remain in my chest, heavy as always.

My existence feels like a crime, cosplaying the best version of me with a ridiculous smile. That me is not me. But for heaps of flowers and praise, I might as well go on with my finest kind of lie. But with all those spotlights where others seem to drown, I’m told to reach so far, to chase the blinding light, to prove I can burn beneath it. That’s what I find among all, my dearest kind of dream. But when I’m out of sight, when I’m not not me, just me, me, me— no costumes to wear, no light to burn— the lowest part of me holds neither a dream nor a lie.

0

Feb 26

Feb 26, 2026 at 3:24 PM UTC

A Dream and a Lie

My existence feels like a crime, cosplaying the best version of me with a ridiculous smile. That me is not me. But for heaps of flowers and praise, I might as well go on with my finest kind of lie. But with all those spotlights where others seem to drown, I’m told to reach so far, to chase the blinding light, to prove I can burn beneath it. That’s what I find among all, my dearest kind of dream. But when I’m out of sight, when I’m not not me, just me, me, me— no costumes to wear, no light to burn— the lowest part of me holds neither a dream nor a lie.

22

I failed to act, I was so still, and now, I lost him. The empty nights, I wonder why and how, I lost him. A gentle soul, so dear, with no ill thoughts, Unlike me, he loved with faith, yet now, I lost him. Naive and young, he never saw his fault; But instead of guide, he was just killed, so now I lost him. He was to be; and he was me as well. I longed to fade; he to live, yet somehow, I lost him. He hated me, yet he let me breathe, My revenge died; I stand alone to vow I lost him. I wear his name and move like he lives, But days hurts, each day I learn how I lost him.

0

Feb 19

Feb 19, 2026 at 3:53 PM UTC

The winter I lost him

I failed to act, I was so still, and now, I lost him. The empty nights, I wonder why and how, I lost him. A gentle soul, so dear, with no ill thoughts, Unlike me, he loved with faith, yet now, I lost him. Naive and young, he never saw his fault; But instead of guide, he was just killed, so now I lost him. He was to be; and he was me as well. I longed to fade; he to live, yet somehow, I lost him. He hated me, yet he let me breathe, My revenge died; I stand alone to vow I lost him. I wear his name and move like he lives, But days hurts, each day I learn how I lost him.

12

Ask that man—six feet under; His lips, retrace the soil: Ask him, how sweet was it— By the blood of brothers. Or the bitterness bites off The desire to **** others. They are all the same; They are all the same. Ask that soil—six feet under; Where does it belong to? Can it dare to divide— The evil and the evil? The blood it soaks in silence— Is it sweet, or is it shame? They are all the same; They are all the same. Ask the water—six feet under; The stains it suffered As it washed the blood. Ask it, about the world above— Of the heavy steps stomped; In name of soil, water, and home. They are all the same; They are all the same. Ask my home—six feet under; The hatred it felt To be addressed “my” home. Can it belong to no one Where water blooms the soil And man looks around— Then his terrible hands? But my home wants to be buried, Six feet under.

0

Feb 13

Feb 13, 2026 at 2:03 AM UTC

Six feet under

Ask that man—six feet under; His lips, retrace the soil: Ask him, how sweet was it— By the blood of brothers. Or the bitterness bites off The desire to **** others. They are all the same; They are all the same. Ask that soil—six feet under; Where does it belong to? Can it dare to divide— The evil and the evil? The blood it soaks in silence— Is it sweet, or is it shame? They are all the same; They are all the same. Ask the water—six feet under; The stains it suffered As it washed the blood. Ask it, about the world above— Of the heavy steps stomped; In name of soil, water, and home. They are all the same; They are all the same. Ask my home—six feet under; The hatred it felt To be addressed “my” home. Can it belong to no one Where water blooms the soil And man looks around— Then his terrible hands? But my home wants to be buried, Six feet under.

33

Under the rain—I was dying; Drops touched with burning intent: But never the music muffled— Never the humming cared. I felt my skin tear down; It’s painful—their touch still calls: But even if my hands, reached— They refused to turn. Been so long—It’s fine The pain, to call it mine. Maybe they never noticed— The rain under the rain. Under the rain—I was dying; And yet, in that collapse— I finally felt alive.

0

Jan 31

Jan 31, 2026 at 5:17 PM UTC

Under the Rain

Under the rain—I was dying; Drops touched with burning intent: But never the music muffled— Never the humming cared. I felt my skin tear down; It’s painful—their touch still calls: But even if my hands, reached— They refused to turn. Been so long—It’s fine The pain, to call it mine. Maybe they never noticed— The rain under the rain. Under the rain—I was dying; And yet, in that collapse— I finally felt alive.

15

Everything I know and love— Are just some pretty words. Neither I find myself in them, Nor did I ever tried to find them. Oh, how I do adore cosplay, In silks and lace I drift, I sway. I wear the dresses, to dance among them, Bask in their gaze, smile in their awe. To slowly drown in the flow. To do love them. To do hate them. To hate it—yet return again, To hover near familiar pain. To seek the thing I claim to flee— To show the purest form of hypocrisy. To do not want pain— To do want pain. To be hurt, yet sit upon the edge, To view the world beyond the ledge, So beautiful, so awful, so complete. To still wait, for someone to meet, To push me, off the edge, Cause I can’t myself… I just can’t myself… To not crave desire, To still care. To want to cry, To want to not. To touch, to pull— To do not… To exist… in probability… To be lost… in the farthest ends of reality… … Everything I know and love— Are just some pretty words. Neither they make myself love, Nor they fixing my broken world.

0

Jun 10, 2025

Jun 10, 2025 at 2:24 AM UTC

To Do Not

Everything I know and love— Are just some pretty words. Neither I find myself in them, Nor did I ever tried to find them. Oh, how I do adore cosplay, In silks and lace I drift, I sway. I wear the dresses, to dance among them, Bask in their gaze, smile in their awe. To slowly drown in the flow. To do love them. To do hate them. To hate it—yet return again, To hover near familiar pain. To seek the thing I claim to flee— To show the purest form of hypocrisy. To do not want pain— To do want pain. To be hurt, yet sit upon the edge, To view the world beyond the ledge, So beautiful, so awful, so complete. To still wait, for someone to meet, To push me, off the edge, Cause I can’t myself… I just can’t myself… To not crave desire, To still care. To want to cry, To want to not. To touch, to pull— To do not… To exist… in probability… To be lost… in the farthest ends of reality… … Everything I know and love— Are just some pretty words. Neither they make myself love, Nor they fixing my broken world.

36

A field of grass, flowers peppered, Dandelions flying, beauty treasured. The world was blessed, Blessed with wonders. But not with fate, Soon struck, the thunders. It was their fault, But does it matter? They fought blindly, Killing each other. The world glowed brightly, With the souls that default. Their powers, too destructive. Killing everyone along with enemies. The reason, so dense, Useless to die with valiance. They are cruel, THEY ARE WORST. They show love, pointless, due outburst. Countless universes, Countless destruction, The outcome is same. Even if they reset the verses, Even if they save every person, The. Outcome. Is. Same. Always… Always… Please just STOP IT… … There was a field, flowers peppered, Dandelions flying, beauty treasured. Now lies the blood and corpses And the destruction they cause. The world was blessed, Now is in coldness and graved.

0

Dec 31, 2024

Dec 31, 2024 at 4:39 AM UTC

Cold Song

A field of grass, flowers peppered, Dandelions flying, beauty treasured. The world was blessed, Blessed with wonders. But not with fate, Soon struck, the thunders. It was their fault, But does it matter? They fought blindly, Killing each other. The world glowed brightly, With the souls that default. Their powers, too destructive. Killing everyone along with enemies. The reason, so dense, Useless to die with valiance. They are cruel, THEY ARE WORST. They show love, pointless, due outburst. Countless universes, Countless destruction, The outcome is same. Even if they reset the verses, Even if they save every person, The. Outcome. Is. Same. Always… Always… Please just STOP IT… … There was a field, flowers peppered, Dandelions flying, beauty treasured. Now lies the blood and corpses And the destruction they cause. The world was blessed, Now is in coldness and graved.

33

Yes, life may be cruel. On some days, you might falter, Under shadows of doubt, thinking About letting it all slip away. But Remember the strength within, and Every joy that makes life whole, cause Living is the greatest pride, One that shines so bright. So, smile Very wide, embrace your days, and Enjoy each moment you hold dear.

0

Dec 30, 2024

Dec 30, 2024 at 8:43 AM UTC

You are love

Yes, life may be cruel. On some days, you might falter, Under shadows of doubt, thinking About letting it all slip away. But Remember the strength within, and Every joy that makes life whole, cause Living is the greatest pride, One that shines so bright. So, smile Very wide, embrace your days, and Enjoy each moment you hold dear.

10

To wake up and wonder, A blank screen, and a cursor Blinking on and off, Like ideas that stir, And thoughts that drift, In the docx, they confer.

0

Dec 13, 2024

Dec 13, 2024 at 1:30 PM UTC

To write a poem

To wake up and wonder, A blank screen, and a cursor Blinking on and off, Like ideas that stir, And thoughts that drift, In the docx, they confer.

6

He lived a life so bright, so free, With endless joy, with endless harmony. A dream of bliss, a golden scene, A life as perfect, as it’s been. But came a devil, cunning and sly, A tempting deal caught his eye. With terms spoken, glorious allure, He signed away, a heart impure. A parasite was born that day, Hidden deep, it made its stay. At first, the deal seemed grand— No worries bound by life's demands. He laughed, he lived, unburdened, wild, No truths defiled, no haunted fear— No… the cat’s here, and the bag’s there The parasite emerged, so clearly. The friends he cherished, walked away, The bond was broken, cold as clay. He called, he cried, sought hearts to mend, But none could bear what he’d defend. For every plea, they turned, ignored— The parasite they all abhorred. He tries it all, to break away, To cure the curse, to **** the stay. He runs, he hides, for the devil’s near, But still, the devil’s laugh he hears. “For what a fool, you truly are, For fleeting joy, went so far— Your life now, a pure despair, The parasite, now’s your attire.” Even as he dies, even as he rots, The parasite bellows off him a lot, As it reminds the world of what he is, And the world just spits on him, The cost of joy paid recklessly.

0

Dec 12, 2024

Dec 12, 2024 at 5:58 PM UTC

Parasite

He lived a life so bright, so free, With endless joy, with endless harmony. A dream of bliss, a golden scene, A life as perfect, as it’s been. But came a devil, cunning and sly, A tempting deal caught his eye. With terms spoken, glorious allure, He signed away, a heart impure. A parasite was born that day, Hidden deep, it made its stay. At first, the deal seemed grand— No worries bound by life's demands. He laughed, he lived, unburdened, wild, No truths defiled, no haunted fear— No… the cat’s here, and the bag’s there The parasite emerged, so clearly. The friends he cherished, walked away, The bond was broken, cold as clay. He called, he cried, sought hearts to mend, But none could bear what he’d defend. For every plea, they turned, ignored— The parasite they all abhorred. He tries it all, to break away, To cure the curse, to **** the stay. He runs, he hides, for the devil’s near, But still, the devil’s laugh he hears. “For what a fool, you truly are, For fleeting joy, went so far— Your life now, a pure despair, The parasite, now’s your attire.” Even as he dies, even as he rots, The parasite bellows off him a lot, As it reminds the world of what he is, And the world just spits on him, The cost of joy paid recklessly.

35