I write when I don't speak
Now I've my own library
                                        ~nyn

IN SHATTERED PIECES,
MY HEART DID FALL,
LOST IN DARKNESS,
FEELING SO SMALL.
BUT THROUGH THE PAIN,
I'LL FIND MY WAY, WITH EACH SUNRISE,
A BRIGHTER DAY.
FOR EVEN IN HEARTBREAK,
I'LL STILL FIND GRACE,
LET MY BROKENNESS BECOME
MY STRENGTH'S EMBRACE.

When death arrives at my door

Asking what's my last wish

And i don't know what to say

Should I say I just wanted to be genuinely happy for atleast one day ,

Or Should I say that I want to meet the person I loved the most

Should I say I want to tell my parents sorry for not being a good child

Or should I say I want to meet my childhood friend and do silly things for the last time

What should I say?..

People say,
March is a month of colors.
Is it?!
So why do people steal my color?
Why do they make my life black and white?
Why do they make me feel like I'm colorless?
Why ?
Is it because March is not really a month of COLORS!?

You never wrote back, but I read every line—

In letters I dreamed up and signed in your sign.

They came in the wind or the drip of the sink,

In shadows that pause just a moment to think.

I fed on illusions, I watered my pain,

I swore that your absence would soon explain.

But days turn to years, and still I believe,

That ghosts only vanish when we stop to grieve.


---nyn

Beneath the moon's gentle glow love's tale unfolds,
A connection unspoken, a story yet untold.

No words to define, no boundries to bind, Just two souls hiding, Intertwined.

Navigation emotions, a dance in the dark, They explore uncharted territories, leaving a mark

Though the road has diverged, and we're apart
I'll cherish the love that once filled my heart.

I walk through nights that have no end, Where shadows stretch and stars pretend.

The silence hums a lullaby, To all the tears I never cry.

My thoughts, like ghosts, begin to creep, Through empty rooms where memories sleep.

Each heartbeat echoes down the hall-A quiet proof I felt it all.

No voice replies, no light will stay, Just hollow echoes fade away.

IN THE DEPTHS OF HOPE,
I'LL PATIENTLY WAIT,
FOR DESTINY TO UNVEIL MY SOULMATE.
WITH OPEN ARMS,
I'LL WELCOME THE DAY,
WHEN LOVE'S SWEET SYMPHONY COMES MY WAY.

He blinks through the blur of another 3 a.m.,

a prisoner of thoughts that visit again.

His eyes, like glass, hold stories untold, heavy with battles that never grow old.

Coffee cools on the table nearby, his fourth cup tonight, he doesn't ask why.

Not for the taste, not for the heat-just something to hold in the cold of defeat.

I love her —
not in the loud, movie-scene kind of way,
but in the way I notice when she’s tired,
when she fake-smiles,
when she pulls her sleeves over her hands like she’s hiding from the world.
I love her in the details —
how she hums when she’s thinking,
how she talks like she’s okay when she’s clearly not.
it’s not perfect, it’s not easy —
but it’s real.
like choosing her even when she’s distant,
like showing up even when she pushes away.
I love her —
in quiet ways she might never fully see,
but I do.
God, I really do.