Meant to flower and blossom with power,
Seeds are planted with care (here, there).
But we’re lost in the shadows – we’re graceless.
Empty masks are around us – they’re faceless.

What becomes of us (empty and hollow)?

Not a flower with a powerful glow.
‘Cause a seed, as you know, doesn’t grow,
When it’s hidden so deep in the darkness.
Will the light and its warmth ever find us?

The moonlight.

It’s silver, it’s calming—it brings me some hope.

Its presence, though distant, is constant.

It lightens the burden of sorrows

until I am lost in these horrors.

What makes me – imposter? a monster?

I shiver; it’s frightening—I plead all to stop,

to rewrite—

the moonlight.

Just for you, baby (only), I bloom.
Your simple smile lightens the room,
Leaving me breathless
And giddy – it’s madness.
Just for you, baby (only), I bloom.

There’s comfort and calm,
in your house, in you –
Like a different realm,
After all we’ve been through.

Your small touch—gaze alone—
is a home. Have you known?

You are real.

My reflection is foreign, it’s haunted –

You are out there (I see you, I want you).

Lover’s caress spills traces of colour,

Making pain in my heart even duller.

Wishing idly (to touch you, to feel you),

I’m stuck here—this moment, my torment.

Help me heal.

Like a quiet summer night,
it was—
or a gentle gust of wind,
and just as fleeting:
Their fated meeting.

“Is it real when your mouth is on mine?
Do we share a heart when our bodies align?”
Thoughts are frantic in jealousy, torment,
As I savour this fleeting soft moment…