Love After The Fracture
©️ Eniyans Poetry ✨️  

It does not return—  
not the way it once was,  
unbroken, uncaged,  
trusting what is.  

Forgiveness comes,  
soft as a suture,  
but the scar remembers  
where it split—  
the ache lives  
when the wind whispers your name.  

Now, it flies lower,  
afraid to explore the sky,  
and meet a heavy fall once again.  

What would you call this—  
a ruin or a revival?  
The love that remains  
is not the love that left.

Your Growth, Your Responsibility

Growth is a garden
only your hands can tend.
Others may pass by,
but none will plant for you.

Your growth—
your responsibility.
No one else’s.

You can wait for guidance,
or start walking.
You can blame the world,
or build your own.

People may desire,
but who acts?
You.
They’ll tell you how to walk—
but who will walk the path?
You.

Growth
is many things:
leaving behind,
stepping out of your comfort zone,
learning,
mindfulness,
change.

It is proof of self-love.
Not chasing it
is proof that you care less about you.

The world will ask you
who you are—
but your growth will answer,
Even when your mouth is sealed.

Tears won’t till the soil.
Excuses don’t water roots.
If you want to bloom,
be your own sun.

Do not be the hunter
who wants to savour
without hunting.


       ©️ Eniyans
                    Poetry
                           ✨️

Many Thrones

Sometimes
we have to sacrifice
what we want
for what we already have.
Not because we don’t want more,
but because it allows
Selfishness
to thrive and grow.

Let others sit;
you already possess
many thrones.
Let others lead;
you’ve already led.

Let them contribute.
Let them grow.

You don’t have to hop on
every role thrown your way.
You won’t always be there.
So ...
let someone else.

Because legacy
is not in how much you hold,
but in how much you hand over.
It’s not in how loud your voice echoes,
but how many others
you taught to speak.

You are not lesser
for stepping back,
you are greater
for making space.

Let it be said
that when you could have taken,
you chose instead
to give.


         ©️ Eniyans
                      Poetry
                             ✨️

If death came cloaked in quiet rain
Draped in silence,
And told you to give a name—
A name,
Of a person you love
Amongst your beloveds,
Who would it be?
Whose absence
Would buy you time?
Whose darkness
Would bring you life?

If life arrived with springs first bloom
With breath warm as morning sun,
And asked,
Who would you love to have back
Amongst your beloved—
Whose smile
Would you call from the grave?
Whose return
Would have your heart filled?

And if both came,
One shadow, one light,
And stood on either side of your soul,
Demanding answers
From a heart already worn thin
Could you speak?
Would you choose?

Or would you fall silent,
Let the weight of love
And loss
Be enough of an answer?


            ©️ Eniyans
                         Poetry
                              ✨️

Letting go isn’t as easy as you say it.
Healing doesn’t happen as quickly
as a baby grows.
Scars don’t close overnight,
and forgiveness?
It isn’t swift either.

Not every hardened heart
chose to be stone.
Some scars,
some pasts,
aren’t so easy to let go.

Beneath that toughness
lies a tender place—
one that aches,
that longs to be known,
but doesn’t know how to show
what it feels
in ways the world understands.

They want love.
Desperately.
But it’s not easy to receive
what you’ve never been taught to hold.

So when affection surfaces,
they bury it.
Pity?
They push it away.

Yes
letting go,
healing,
forgiving,
they all bring peace.

But peace, too,
takes time.

So, let’s offer a helping hand
one that stretches,
not to make them feel
like they’re not wanted,
but one that accepts them.
Help them find themselves,
and love who they are.

And maybe,
just maybe,
that’s okay.


        ©️ Eniyans
                      Poetry
                            ✨

Digital chains

To the ones
Who became slaves
To the notifications that pop up
When a message drops.

To the ones
Addicted to their gadgets,
Glued to the screen all day,
With eyes that grow sore.

To the ones
Who grow hesitant
For their phones to chime,
Another excuse to hold on
When they should let go.

It’s time you did what’s best for you.
Hours on the screen won’t make you,
They’ll mar you.
You know what needs to be done.
Do it,
Before it takes you.

           ©️ Eniyans
                        Poetry
                               ✨️

To the Ladies

To the ladies,
who sell themselves
to satisfy the lustful pleasures of men,
and to gain a moment's worth of comfort or coin,
Do you feel no stirring in your soul?
No whisper of remorse?

It ruptures my heart
to see you trample upon your own dignity and pride.
“Today’s world doesn’t care about pride and dignity anymore,” you say.
But must you echo the crowd
when you were born to rise above it?

Why not be that white sheep
amid a thousand blacks?
Even if the world is steeped in sin,
must you wear it like skin?

You become a lustful tool
to men who can’t keep their manhood in check.
But are there no other paths?
No gentler ways to survive
without exposing yourself to the virus that bites in silence?

They treat you
like a name in a phone,
a night without memory.
Yet I see more,
a soul behind tired eyes,
a woman buried beneath the noise.

You become a pick and drop,
a vessel to many lost lives.
Do you not think about this at all?
Or have you silenced the ache within?

This is not a call to shame,
but to awakening.

Close those legs,
not out of fear,
but in power.
Quit this demeaning, self-destructive act.
Pick yourself up once again,
not as a shadow of your past,
but as a woman reborn in purpose.

Reclaim what was always yours:
Your dignity.
Your pride.
Your story.


     ©️ Eniyans
                  Poetry
                        ✨️