Stampede of fragments barraged
Through flames of remorse
Constantly denying truth
The pain in my heart dying for blood
Blood of courage with eminent power
Streaming through the veins
Pumping ardor beats of fervor
"I want to be myself again"

With trembling heart I approach
in search of that which you so ardently seek
knowing somehow that this remorse
of the stampede of fragments barraged
of which you so fervently speak
will only lead you to more intense pain--
but if you will allow me to,
I will help you find your true inner self again...

I have sinned, slaughtered the innocent
Their minds are no longer theirs
I created monsters eating monsters
Hatred augmented to decree misery
It's too late to change
So many lives I've hurt
Don't waste your time on me

But you have to know this from my own heart:
though you've done so much wrong
it's never too late** to make a new start--
throw out your miserable, uncaring, heartless ways
and look to me to help you
to find fulfilment in living better days
by turning from the evil that clutches your soul
Hand in hand, we can do this together
Let me give, teach, share with you what I have come to know...

As the sun rises
At the edge of oblivion
I stood here with the intent of plummeting
This heart wavering at its end
Barely pumping 
My soul no longer at its pasture

Wait,
What is this? What’s this sound? A tune?
A sudden melodic presence staggered my senses
Awoke from my nightmare of fatuous melancholy past
This tune
This melody
This beautiful presence
Brought my soul back to innocence

I can see her
But I couldn't see her face
Her fire sparks as she plays
I can feel her entity-
Rupturing every part of my enmity
She’s in this glass with infinite bright
The lark who saves every norm from falling
Igniting her flames to those in need

But I did fall
I fell hard
Not to my demise
But for this girl with the violin

And I feel alive
For the first time
I feel alive.


@Erennwrites

He gave her orchids, not roses, not flame—
But quiet things, with roots that cling
To silent bark, and bloom in shade—
The way he loved, unseen.

She smiled like spring, but loved like wind,
Passing through without regret.
He stayed like dusk, holding the light,
Even as the sun forgets.

The others brought tangerines, bright and sweet,
Sun-kissed and easy to hold—
But he only offered orchids, slow to bloom,
In a language too patient, too old.

She never saw how he watered hope,
In a garden she never walked.
How he learned to speak her silences,
And answered when she never talked.

He watched her dance with summer hearts,
Each one burning out too soon—
Yet still, he kept the orchids near,
Blooming beneath a winter moon.

No final scene, no curtain fall,
No music swelled, no kiss—
Just him and orchids, year by year,
Tending love that she won’t miss.

Despite all this, always smiling
His love for her, unwavering.


Erennwrites

Aligned to unite
With others who lost their way
It’s a mess we perceived
To those in dismay
These lines create dreams 
For the broken
For the ones never spoken-
Of Love & Courage

Conjuring up notions of time
Structuring of desires preludes
To pursue what’s lost 
To preach and beseech truth
Faith denotes eternally
Surviving pain and deceit
What speaks only bleeds
To fabricate amity

Not fazed by power
But to denote greed
Greed of Love & Passion
Exhaling Hate & Deception
To succor the pillar of fate
To exist in this factual state

Your heart's a fragile thing. 
Everyone’s heart is. 
Don’t ever contaminate hatred
Contaminate love instead.

He is the quiet kind of ruined.
The kind that doesn’t bleed, but decays slowly
beneath the skin. No one notices the way his hands tremble
when they’re not looking.
How he stares too long at nothing,
as if the silence is speaking back.
He’s mastered the art of being
unseen.

They say he’s calm.
Collected. Strong.
He won’t ask for help, but renders it instead
But strength is just another word
for silence
when no one is listening.

Inside,
he is all cracked glass—
one breath away from shattering.
He carries storms
like secrets in his chest.
Memories sharpened into weapons
he turns inward.

He doesn’t scream.
Because screaming would mean
He’s real,
and he’s been pretending for so long
he’s started to vanish
even to himself.

Some nights,
he feels it rising—
a pressure, a pulse,
like something terrible
trying to claw its way out.
But he swallows it down.
Always.
Because what if the breaking
never stops?
What if he becomes
everything he’s afraid of?

No one sees the ruin in his restraint.
How holding it in
has become its own kind of violence.
There is a war inside him
with no victor,
only ruin,
only wreckage.

One day,
he will not bend.
He will not warn.
He will simply
cease.
And it won’t be loud.
It’ll be the kind of quiet
that takes the air with it.
The kind that leaves people whispering,
“But he seemed fine…”

He always seemed fine, in his own prison.


Erennwrites

The heart is red
not because it loves,
but because it remembers.
It remembers the way a name can echo
like a prayer or a curse.
The way touch can feel like home,
or a wound.
The way silence can say
more than a thousand declarations ever could.

Red is not gentle.
It is not safe.
It is the heat of wanting something
you were never meant to hold.
It is the color of holding on too tightly,
and the bruise left behind
when you finally let go.

I have felt red
in the tremble before a first kiss,
and in the stillness after the last goodbye.
In laughter shared beneath stars
that forgot our names,
and in the cold space between
a heartbeat and a response that never came.

Red is the moment you realize
they are not yours,
and never were,
yet somehow
every part of you belonged to them.
It is the ache that arrives uninvited,
on quiet mornings,
on crowded trains,
in songs that once meant nothing
and now mean everything.

Red is the war between loving and leaving.
It is the scream you swallow,
the tears you don’t shed,
the goodbye you say
without moving your lips.

And yet
with all its fury,
all its sorrow,
all its breaking
red is still love.
Even when love is lost.
Even when love is not returned.
Even when it hurts more than it heals.

Because red is proof
that you felt something real.
That your heart
was brave enough
to bleed.
And in that bleeding,
something beautiful lived.
Even if only for a moment.

And maybe,
that moment
was everything.


Erennwrites

Broken in repetitions 
Lying stagnant in defeat 
It's only been one girl
But my heart's barely breathing
 It took me years to love again
It's not that easy to just say hi or hey
Not just any girl to fall in dismay
The heart's recovering from the past pain

I wish it would hurry up,
I wish time would run its course,
my mind has become detached,
and my heart I wish to divorce.
this pain is ebbing away,
in the dark depths of my soul,
it is not so easy to fill a gap,
when all that is left is a hole.

Pushing away every viable ardor
Beats of fragments danced in my head
Every girl that came with open arms
Lure me with expectations that never seem to last
Those sweet nothings will gave me infinite hope of catching feelings
Always shutting the door and locking it.

But this door can only stay locked for so long,
I've lost sight of what is right and what is wrong,
such expectations have destroyed me helplessly,
I've been choking on my pain, breathlessly.
when they came around, I was full of vitality,
and now they're gone, I've been living rather absently*.

I built walls where bridges once stood
stone upon stone of my own making
a fortress of doubt, of fear, of pride—
until even the voices that called my name
sounded like ghosts in the distance

I had friends once, real ones
The kind who saw the storm in my eyes
and stayed to dance in the rain with me
The kind who knew my silence
wasn’t rejection, but a cry

But I let shadows whisper louder than love
let insecurity pull me toward hands
that never meant to hold me
I traded warmth for cold, truth for illusion
turned away from those who stayed
for those who never would

Now, the echoes of laughter haunt me
memories like open doors I closed too soon
Regret is a heavy thing
and silence heavier still
How do I find my way back
when I was the one who walked away

Would they still hear me
if I called their names again?


@Erennwrites

Kata orang, jiwa yang ditakdirkan
tak selalu bertemu di musim bunga—
kadang mereka bersua dalam runtuhan
dalam perit luka yang hampir sembuh
di antara senyap dua jiwa yang pernah patah

Kau hadir bukan seperti guruh
tetapi seperti dendang yang lama ku lupa
suaramu—
bahasa yang tulangku sudah mengerti
senyumanmu—
pintu yang pernah ku mimpikan
jauh sebelum aku berani mengetuk

Kita tak berselisih
Kita teringat
Seperti bintang lama yang masih berkedip
seperti hujan yang mengulang jejak di jendela
yang pernah dikenalnya dalam dunia lain

Saat kau genggam tanganku nanti
ia bukan sekadar hangat—
ia kenangan
Dari ribuan malam yang telah kita lalui
di kehidupan yang lebih lembut
di mana kau tak pernah perlu pergi
dan aku tak perlu menunggu

Aku menyayangimu sebelum aku tahu wajahmu
Dan saat aku akhirnya menatapmu
aku menangis—bukan kerana bahagia
tetapi kerana segala hayat
yang pernah ku cari
dan tidak menjumpaimu

Kita adalah sedih di balik lagu lama
alasan rasi bintang enggan pudar
nama yang laut bisikkan
pada bulan yang selalu diam

Dan walau dunia melupakan kita
walau di hayat seterusnya kita hanya bayang
jiwaku tetap membawa lukamu
dan degup nadiku
akan sentiasa satu detik lambat
menunggumu menyusulnya

Kerana saat semesta menulis namamu
ditulis juga namaku di sebelah—
bukan dengan dakwat
tapi dengan kerinduan
Selamanya.


Erennwrites

Behind those fabricated smiles
Only exists at the palm of her mind.
'Misunderstood
Betrayed
Diminished
Stabbed
Tortured' endlessly by the evil deep behind her norms
She grazed upon disbelief that anything but this cease to exist.
She had enough
She wanted to run, fly away
Far, faraway from here

She’s been living a lie between her & her
It has to come to an end.
The world she thought was beautiful
Laughed at how obtuse she was
Believing their lies
Entertained to their heart’s content

She finally escaped
Running forever until she came to a halt
A void full of serenity
Silence preaching the winds to howl
The moon was listening despite the night being blind
She knew this was where she needs to be
She found her canopy out of trees of rested shadows

They had been there all along
Inside her—
breathing the same sun
Rooted to her veins
Always by her side
Protecting her.


Erennwrites

It was always September
when the stars remembered us—
how we lay beneath them,
two silhouettes painted on God's canvas
hearts flickering like flames beneath hearth

You wore red that night—
not crimson, not scarlet,
but the kind of red that feels like home.
Your sweater sleeves brushed mine,
your smile was like glaring at the sun ,
and your eyes held the kind of warmth
that made me forget to breathe.

We found our mound,
the one with the crooked tree
and the half-forgotten swing,
and we looked up—
just as the sky began to bloom with fire.

"Shooting stars!!", you screamed.
“Quick. Make all the wishes you ever wanted.”

I made a wish with each falling spark—
one for the way your hand found mine,
one for the way your shoulder fit perfectly against me,
one for the hush that wrapped around us
like a promise still unfolding.
But hidden beneath them all,
tender and trembling and true,
was the one I never dared to say aloud...

And then—
you turned to me
with stars in your eyes
and that smile
like the last light of the sun,
and said,
“I’ve been wishing too.”

You leaned in,
the world held its breath,
and when your lips met mine,
the sky seemed to applause in silent bursts of light.

Of all of the stars that fell,
only one of my wishes came true:
That you were falling for me too.


Erennwrites

Under the hush of midnight’s breath,
she walks—umbrella in hand,
not for the rain,
but to hold back the weight
of a thousand watching stars.

Constellations whisper
stories of love stitched in light,
but none are hers.
They shimmer like promises
just out of reach,
their glow a quiet ache.

Her heart, a silent ember,
burns beneath the ribs’ cage—
never flickering,
never fading,
only waiting.

She is flame wrapped in longing,
guarded not by stars,
nor shelter of hands—
but by solace,
the only canopy
that keeps her whole.

And still, she burns—
not wildly,
but patiently,
for the one soul
who'll one day walk
through galaxies
just to meet her


Erennwrites

He was reading
So was she
She was giggling
Full of glee
His heart stopped
When their eyes met
She knew it'll be the first
She would never forget

He tried to approach her
But to no avail
His heart pumped faster
He knew he would fail

She was eagerly waiting
Wondering why he didn't move
Is there something on her face?
Did something came loose?

He broke through enmity
Believing it could be more
He got up and accidentally-
Yelled his name out!
"CAN WE BE FRIENDS!?"

She laughed so loud
He thought she was like the rest
He was about to leave
When she pulled him
"Hi, my name is …….."


@Erennwrites

Sham wow.
we shall slaughter our cows
and swim in the blood, my pal
No more plowing for these cows
I insist now that we bathe.

Sham wee.
I have to disagree
we've been bartering and broke
alas to these cows gave us meat
See our fields, vast and free
seeds of gold will make us rich!

A sham? It's a shame.
Selling paint and pans to you my man
a **** dripping payment
wishful thinking
I wish I had a *** to **** in
Kids in their Plymouths shouting
it's pathetic
I'd pepper spray any jaded figure
if they told me they had regrets

Let them run their mouths
Kids will be kids even when they're 33
Their Plymouths breaks down every week
jaded figure my ***, flaws they experienced
By inheritance they succeed
They age like any old man swerving their needs
We will have regrets if you don't listen to me.

Listen here
all wishing of life supreme
follow the divine ruler an ye shall not crumble
pests. 33 men or 33 boys?
whilst you waste sand deciphering,
thy kingdom withers
A **** drunk man hath no memory
no manners
torn lips. I twist at the sides waiting for death
succumb to regret and I shall spare no gratitude

Don't be deluded, you're just drunk
You're still 23 living in that big oak tree
If it wasn't for me
You'll be living in the streets
Let's finish this
Or u can bury yourself deep
within your life's agony

I detect mutiny
You trip over words while you question my authority
if a tellers words match a tellers hands, then why worry?
but I feel your dishonesty
I see it in the air you breathe
I question you because I can
Because I should
**Because I am
Supreme

You bloom in places pain once lived—
soft, stubborn, beautifully brave

You laugh like nothing ever hurt,
then cry like everything did

You trip, you rise,
you call it clumsy—
'I call it love at first sight'

You're not just strong
You're a tulip in a thunderstorm,
Still choosing to bloom
Still choosing to love.


Erennwrites

They said the rain would drown it—
that flames don’t last in storm
But still it burned, a quiet light
refusing to conform

The wind threw every sorrow
the night forgot its name
yet there it stood—
still trembling
a heart disguised as flame

Love didn’t ask for mercy
nor beg the skies to clear—
it burned not for the world to see
but just to persevere

And when the world forgets you—
'your laughter, tears, and pain,'
just like the ember that—
still burns in the rain
Let love be what remembers you
Be the heart that stays—
Always.


Erennwrites

The heart doesn’t break like glass.
It folds.
Quietly,
like paper left out in the rain.

You don’t even notice at first.
Only that certain moments feel heavier.
Laughter leaves a strange echo.
And songs…
songs start to look you in the eye.

There was a time it fluttered.
Not out of fear—
but from the thrill of hearing your name
in a room you weren’t in.

The heart remembers things you forget on purpose.
Like the way your hand hovered near mine.
The space between us felt sacred.
I didn’t breathe.
Did you?

Even your silence felt like music.
I listened.
I still do.

And when you looked at me
—really looked—
it felt like a story was beginning
just by accident.

The heart took notes.
It scribbled your laugh into margins.
Wrote whole poems
out of how your eyes softened
when you spoke about something you loved.

Then it broke,
softly.
Not with noise,
but with remembering.

Because it still thinks
maybe.
Maybe again.
Maybe somehow.

It builds new hope from old ashes.
Still waiting
at the corner of every almost.
Still aching in the way
that only means one thing—
it mattered.

And I guess
that’s all the heart ever wanted—
to have mattered.


Erennwrites

She entered like light, shimmering;
not the soft kind—
the kind that breaks through storm clouds,
uninvited, undeniable,
with a gaze that does not yield
There was fire in the way she stood still
As if silence bowed to her illumination
As if the world paused, just long enough
to take a breath around her bright presence

You’d think she's all thorns and torn—
but the truth is,
she holds more softness than most can carry
A kindness that doesn’t perform
It just exists
Like roots
Like rain on aching skin

She laughs like the sun forgotten it was tired
Unexpected. Wild. Unscripted.
A sound that stumbles into your chest
and stays there longer than it should
She doesn’t speak of what she’s survived
But you can see it in her eyes
In the way she doesn’t flinch anymore
In the way she still opens her heart
even when the world forgot to knock

When she loves—
there is no question
She loves in ways that re-write the meaning
No halves. No hesitations
Only the full ache of it
Only the surrender

And still, she stands—
not because it was easy,
but because she refused to disappear
She carved herself into something
unshakable
and beautiful
and entirely her own.
To know her
is to be reminded of life
Of how much light a soul can hold,
even after everything

And once you’ve seen her
truly seen her--
You never forget
You never want to


Erennwrites

I never knew hands could touch
without ever brushing skin,
or how a voice could thread through ribs
and teach a heart to sing again.

You were a garden I stumbled into,
wild lilies climbing every broken fence,
their scent so thick, so sweet,
I forgot the world I was running from.
We built a thousand dreams
between the commas of our silences,
Your laughter weaving through the spaces
where doubt once lived.
And God, the way we fit—
Like rain hitting heating concrete,
like sighs into waiting arms.
I didn’t believe it could be real.

But love had torn my hands before,
left lilies rotting in my palms,
and I knew–—
I knew I'd only ruin something so pure.
So I broke first,
chose the lie over the fall,
let the fear wear my face,
let you believe I was never yours.
You didn’t chase me.
Maybe you thought I never cared.
Maybe it’s better you think that.
Maybe it’s safer if you forget.

Now I only hold the echoes—
the soft half-smile in your words,
the way your laughter cradled my broken parts,
the feeling of finding home
in someone I was too afraid to deserve.

We were a wildfire of could have been,
burned out before the first match struck,
leaving nothing behind
but ashes that still smell of lilies,
and the cruel memory
of what it felt like to belong.

Now I walk through a life you never touched,
grieving through almosts that's left in fragments,
watering dead lilies in the garden of my chest,
wishing you would hate me,
so it might hurt you less.
But the truth is,
I never felt like this with anyone —
It was brief, but moments with you felt infinite

'You left a covet in me masking'
to leave you aching for someone
who would never leave.

And in the quiet,
where your memory still breathes,
I kneel before a field of dying lilies,
and bury myself, deep
beside the love I was too coward to stay.
I'm the wildflower that you shouldn't keep


Erennwrites

Her parents passed on
before she could tie her own shoes,
left with a baby brother
and grief too big for her hands.
Her grandparents gave her love—
soft, steady,
the kind that never asked her to smile.

But the world outside was cruel.
So she built boxes—
safe little spaces
where no one could hurt her.
She painted roses on the walls:
red for anger,
white for innocence,
black for the nights
she cried without sound.

She spoke in riddles,
loved in silence,
and kept her heart
wrapped in thorns.
No one ever stayed long enough
to see the girl inside the box—
still hoping
someone might enter,
and choose to stay.

Until one day,
he knocked—
not to fix her,
but to sit beside her,
quietly.
And for the first time,
she opened the box,
not to hide—
but to let someone in.


Erennwrites

All of my fragments lead me back to you
Despite it all—I know
It's always uncertain
to what we conceived may happen
Fate might be cruel but it's certain
To a degree that it can only be attained
if both are willing

Like tulips,
I'll make a world—
full of gardens full of you
I'll rain it all with my reign
to see you grow
But you will only look up to the sun

Conscious to believe
what is worth remembering
I'll never forget—
Your smile, your laugh, your dances
Your beautiful everything—
in everything that you do

Like the moon—
Cracked on crevices of his demeanor
Those are tears that dried up
That no longer perceived as ethereal
He can only refract from the sun

And you will never be mine
I have always known this
Your tulip heart—
only belongs to the sun


Erennwrites

He never knew how it felt 
like to be loved. This heart 
of his could only emit it. Born 
with no hands and feet. He could 
only breathe and fabricate amity. 
This girl with her tiffany blue ribbon 
on her hair, drifts him into the ocean of 
her blue aqua eyes. Struck by her 
glance with that ethereal smile akin to 
the moon-crescent. He just knew he wants 
to be with her presence.

She fell for his hazelnut brown 
eyes. As they reminded her of wolves 
howling in the dead of night to the silver 
moon. Shape shifting and bones breaking 
his body is left every night shaking and
aching. He never gave her much information 
about his transformation. “You are my 
moon and ill forever howl to you” he softly 
said.

Sitting on the rooftop where he fathom northern lights will appear in the black night, emitting colours of hope with stars like freckles glinting like they know his wish.
His only wish is to have hands & feet. So the girl with blue aqua eyes would gleam at him like the moon elegant in her eminence.

Knowing her would make him feel 
alive instead of blind , useless and dead. 
"Hold me through the night and cradle me 
like a baby in bed". "You're all that's in my 
head he said. With you I become no longer
blind". "I just feel stronger and refine. Shine 
down your light on me" he said.

As the sun rises waking souls back to their homes. 
Rays of fervour stained on souls who lost hope
Giving them the miracle they hope to prevail.
As he woke up with both hands & feet
He was no longer bounded by stigma in defeat.
He almost died when he held his breath for the longest time. 
When he saw her, the girl with blue aqua eyes said, "Honey, Get up wolf boy it's time to eat."

He was living a dream within a dream
A nightmare filled with fantasies.
He knew then she was the moon gleaming.
Staring at his wife, mesmerized
**That was when he felt that she has brought him back to life.~

Winter is settling in
Snow begins to fall
Christmas music playing
Getting in the groove and all.

Loners wishing below the mistletoe
Getting a kiss at least on the cheek
Parents buying presents to show
How much they love their kids

Joy is spread all around
A time when all deserves 
A crown of love and joy
Christmas what a happy time of year.*

Opening presents under that decorated tree
Believing in Santa as a kid 
When we grew up and realised with glee
That our parents were actually him.

The new year arrives not with thunder, but with a whisper—soft, persistent, and unyielding.
It carries the weight of time gone by, the fragments of moments we let slip like sand between careless fingers.

Regret lingers like an unspoken truth, a shadow cast by the light of what could have been. We try to grasp it, to undo it, to reweave the threads of yesterday, but the loom has turned, and the past is a river that only flows forward.

Time was never ours to hold. It was a fleeting metaphor, a borrowed grace we misused with the arrogance of eternity. Hours became currency we spent too freely, years became chapters we didn’t bother to read.

But the clock does not pause.
It does not mourn. It ticks with indifference, a steady cadence reminding us of the gift we still possess: the present.

If the past is a lesson and the future a promise, then this moment is the altar on which we lay our resolve. To forgive ourselves. To treasure the seconds. To write poetry where there was silence.

For though time does not turn back, it offers something greater
a chance to begin again.
And in this beginning, perhaps,
we can finally learn to live.





                                            @Erennwrites

You are the warmth in the serenity I never drank,
the final page of a novel I hold off reading
just to stretch the story one more night.
You are the lullaby I hummed when I forgot the lyrics
but remember the ache.

I think I’ve been writing to you in everything—
in the way I halt at fullstops
Because I'm afraid
there's always an end from a beginning
I do not know the color of your eyes,
but I know how they’ll light up when you speak of things you love.
I haven’t felt your hand in mine,
but I know how I’ll memorize the curve of your thumb
like it’s punctuation—
a comma in the sentence of my life
that says: pause here. something beautiful is coming.

If you’re wondering,
yes—
I’ve saved you all the best lines.
The ones that never made it into poems
because they were too soft, too sacred, too soon.
They live folded in my chest
like notes passed under desks in classrooms of longing.
I don’t send them,
because I want to give them to you in person—
when we are older,
and ready,
and brave enough to admit we were always meant to find each other
in a world full of almosts.

And when you arrive—
with your quiet eyes and your laugh that tastes like home,
don’t be surprised if I cry.
Not because I am sad,
but because it is a kind of grief
to wait so long for a face you already loved
in every stranger that almost looked like you.

To you, whom I haven’t met yet—
come slowly,
but come.
This heart has been keeping time in poetry,
and every line
has always led me to you.


Erennwrites

We never met,
yet something in me moved
each time your name brushed the edge of my thoughts—
like rain recalling the scent of earth
before it even falls.

You felt familiar
in a way no one else ever did.
As if some part of you
was written into me
long before either of us learned the weight of longing.

You felt it too, didn’t you?
In the stillness,
in the way silence held meaning
only we could understand.
Two souls orbiting the same moon,
never touching—always aching.

I dreamt of tulips once—
white, trembling in morning light,
growing between us
in a field we were never allowed to walk.
They never withered.
But we… we had to.

Because life has its own tide,
and sometimes hearts that echo
are not meant to meet on this shore.
Sometimes, we’re meant
only to pass by each other in prayers,
to fold the ache into poetry
and call it peace.

I could have stayed,
but at what cost?
Would you have flourished
in hands not shaped to hold your future?
Would this quiet knowing
have turned into noise
had we begged fate to bend?

So I leave you to the stars,
to the life you were meant to live—
uninterrupted by a love
that bloomed too far away to root.

And if, one day,
you stand in a garden of tulips
and feel warmth bloom inside your chest
for no clear reason—
know this:

If you were meant to be mine,
you would have been.
And if you are meant to be mine still—
you always will be.


Erennwrites

She’s sitting on the edge of void
There’s nothing but her & her only
She screamed & yelled her lungs out
To the nothingness against her liberty
Why was she there? “What am i here for?”
She ran like forever hoping to see a living soul
In the frail state that she’s in she didn't lose her ardor
Rummaging for that unviable goal

"Is this a dream?Am I dreaming?"
She finally stopped to see where she is
Under the fabricated shades of existence
Feeding fragments of forgotten memories
A sudden influx of blood raining heavily
She’s now drowning in an ocean of blood
Trying her best to stay afloat
But she’s being hauled down furtively
But she didn’t meet her demise
She’s still alive

There’s no sign of obscurity
She’s now floating in the middle of nowhere
She heard someone called her name repetitively
There’s no one here
But the voice sounds familiar
She heard it everytime in her dreams
"I WANT YOU TO STAY HERE!"

She tried to run, fly or any exertion at all
It’s like she’s ensnared forever in this downward spiral
That voice she heard all this time
Is now right in front of her


Flabbergasted and petrified
That voice she heard all along was actually  *her.

In the hush between midnight and mourning
he stood—barefoot, bruised by silence—
as the cradle creaked like old bones
rocking her tears back into sleep

She was fire and wail
a flicker born of grief and grace
and he—
still learning how to hold
a world that trembles in his hands

Nostalgia came in waves
not of joy, but of what could have been—
the lullabies he never learned to sing
The mother’s voice now ghost in air

He burned inside each night she cried
ash in his throat
but no flame could flame the heat
of a heartbeat pressed against his chest

“Shhh,” he whispered—not to her
but to the ache that built altars
from broken hours
To mirrors that refracts spectrum—
Of what could've been

And when she woke
screaming from dreams she could not speak
he carried her from cradle to sky
from nightmare to the hum of his heartbeat—
a sound she’d once heard underwater

In his arms, she curled like cotton
small fists unknowing
how love often grieves in silence
how men sometimes cry into blankets
so no one hears them unravel

He never told her
that the cradle was not for her—
but for him
to remind himself she is here
still breathing
still burning brighter than the ashes
of what he feared he’d fail to become

So he rocks,
even when she’s long grown.
Even when the room is empty.
Even when the cradle stands still.
Because somewhere between grief and love,
Nostalgia burns the brightest—
when it rocks you back
into what once was home.


Erennwrites

Clenched fists armouring this will
Thoughts inverse with no given time
Etched to seek this onus regime-
Of clouded fears of clouded minds
Manifested dreams into demise
Yet pretense lure out what is candor
Pain was imminent to forsee
But truth remains the same
Pure of innocence hemmed
Heart of steel mettled with will
Burning the hays of shame
Impelled,
no longer needing the anchor
In darkness reign wars will end
The spark will flame again


@Erennwrites

White was the morning she walked away,
barefoot on cold tiles, carrying silence.
The sky had no color that day—
only the hush of something ending.

White was the page I never gave her,
the one that held everything I couldn’t say.
My hands trembled with the weight of it—
not the words,
but the years between us.

White is the silence that hums at dusk,
when the sky forgets its colors
and everything feels like remembering.

White is the dress on her wedding day
She left with winter in her eyes,
Walking down the isle, and I stood still,
watching her vanish into the light.

White is the flame I hold at night,
soft with sorrow, strong with light.
Not empty now, but full instead—
of hope, and love, and words unsaid.


Erennwrites