You begged him to stay,
because your heart wasn’t ready to break.
You held on,
thinking love could fix what was already gone.

He begged you to let him go,
not out of anger,
but because he had already left in his heart.
He was tired—
of pretending, of holding back the goodbye.

You cried,
hoping your tears would change his mind.
But he sighed,
because he had no more words to give.

And in that quiet moment,
you both knew:
loving someone
doesn’t always mean they’ll stay.

A river does not beg
to be remembered by the stones.
It sings as it runs,
spilling secrets into the arms of the sea,
never asking if the shore still waits.

The wind does not promise
to return to the same trees.
It carries the scent of distant rains,
leaving only whispers in the bending grass,
never pausing to hear its own name.

The moon does not wait
for the sun’s permission to shine.
It rises in silence,
casting silver over sleeping waters,
unbothered by the turning world.

Some things move,
not because they are chased,
but because they were never meant to stay.

You didn’t slam the door.
You didn’t scream.
You just…
stopped arriving.

No final word,
no cracked goodbye.
Just space
where you used to be.

Grief didn’t knock—
it slipped in
through the silence
and made itself at home.

I still set the table for two,
in my mind.
Still expect your voice
in rooms
you never returned to.

How do you mourn
someone
who never said they were leaving?
I keep replaying the last moment
we shared
like it was meant to mean something.
But maybe it was just…
a Tuesday.

You left like smoke—
no shape,
no sound,
just scent on my clothes
and a burn I can't place.

I need a break —
A break from my thoughts,
From people,
From everything around me.

I'm tired of everything,
I need a silent 365 days,
Just to cool,
To calm ,
my soul and body.

I miss seeing random text from my "friends",
The moment I stopped texting,
They also did,
Am I unlucky?

I remember putting efforts into "thee friendship",
But the effort was never matched,
I texted First, told them Random stories,
Planned dates,
Initiated most of the things.

I don't know whether I am angered or disappointed,
I'm just hurting,
It feels silent.

Dear Saviour
You not only died for my freedom,
But You also loved me unconditionally.
Today, I messed up.
I know I promised You that I'd never do it again—
But I did.

In the stillness of my mind,
Thoughts flooded in.
I created scenarios.
It's safe to say
They overpowered me.

Let me admit—
My crime lies deeply in the veins of life.
Or maybe ,
let me call it the beginning of knowing.
It just happened.
I didn’t understand at the time.
The more I grew,
The clearer the picture became.

I craved that sin
More than I acknowledged it.
Before I knew it, I dined with it.
Not only did I dine with it—
But also with its companions.
The companions came in my dreams,
Teased me, left me feeling naked and used.
I woke up
And went to dine with sin again.

Dear Saviour,
I am guilty.
But at what cost—my life?
Abide with me
As You forgive and grant me ease.

To be human is to be tempted.
To be human is to know when to agree,
And when to say no.
Dear Saviour,
Look at my flesh—
It's leaking.

Forgive my iniquity.
Grant me mercy.
Don't take Your face away from me

Once upon literature,
There lived a writer,
Whose pen bled—
Every second of her day.
She had no one to listen,
So she spoke to the page—
And the page listened in silence.

There lived a great man
In the beginning of inking,
A man whose pen carved echoes into eternity.
He wrote not for fame,
But because his soul demanded it—
Every letter, a whisper from his depths,
Every sentence, a bridge between pain and purpose.