I stand here, words caught in a maze,
twisting, turning, seeking an exit.
Your eyes reflect impatience,
silently judging me, labeling me
as slow, as lacking.
But it is not me who is shackled by ignorance.

Between us lies an unseen world,
a gap unbridged.
I speak in layers, in depths,
while you skim the surface.
I am not foolish;
I am a river flowing beneath ice,
strong currents hidden from view.

Communication is a dance of souls,
delicate, requiring mutual effort.
You stomp through the rhythm,
dismissing my words.
I am not clumsy;
I am a dancer in the dark,
moving to music you cannot hear.

You see my pauses as signs of weakness,
but they are spaces where my thoughts take flight,
exploring realms beyond your sight.
I am not slow;
I am an eagle on the wind,
soaring through unseen skies.

Each word I speak carries weight,
a map of my universe.
You grasp at them like fleeting shadows,
seeking simplicity.
I am not unclear;
I am a poet with hidden verses,
crafting meaning in layers of light and shadow.

To understand me is to dive deep,
to venture into the unknown.
It is not me who is limited,
but perhaps you who fears the depth,
clinging to the familiar shore.

I am a book with pages yet unturned,
a story rich with layers.
Not a puzzle to be solved quickly,
but a journey to be savored.
I am not incomplete;
I am a symphony in progress,
a melody waiting for willing ears.

Do not judge me by your narrow view.
I am not lacking;
I am a mind in bloom,
vibrant and alive.
If you cannot see my worth,
it is not my light that fails,
but your eyes that are closed to my brilliance.

In this world of varied voices,
let us seek understanding, not judgment.
Let us bridge gaps with patience,
for in true connection,
we find the beauty of our shared humanity.
And in that space, we all shine.

In a room where shadows gather,
a poet sits, pen in hand,
but the ink runs dry,
the words fall silent.
The muse, once a beacon,
now a distant memory,
fades into the abyss,
leaving the poet alone,
bereft of inspiration,
a soul adrift.

His verses, once vibrant,
now lie dormant,
ink on yellowed pages,
tales of love, loss, and time.
Each line a fragment of his heart,
each stanza a piece of his soul,
yet no eyes find them,
no hearts feel their pulse.

The muse has fled,
taking with it the spark,
the fire that once ignited
his every thought,
his every dream.
Despair takes its place,
a shadow creeping in,
tightening its grip,
as hope slips away,
like sand through fingers,
leaving behind a hollow shell.

He recalls the days
when words flowed like rivers,
when each poem was a lifeline,
a bridge to the world.
Now, his pen rests,
still and silent,
a relic of what once was,
a testament to a passion
that has withered and died.

In solitude, he makes his choice,
a final act, a quiet surrender.
The world around him continues,
unaware of the loss,
unseeing of the depth
of his silent pleas,
his unspoken cries.
He slips away,
a shadow among shadows,
leaving behind
only the faintest echo
of his presence.

The stars may mourn,
the moon may weep,
but his words remain,
etched in the fabric of time.
Each verse a whisper,
a ghostly reminder
of a poet's heart,
a soul that chose to die.

No one reads his lines,
no one hears his voice,
yet his spirit lingers,
hidden in the ink,
a silent cry,
a haunting sigh,
a testament to the pain
that no one saw,
to the loneliness
that no one felt.

In death, his words survive,
a haunting echo, a tale alive,
floating in the ether,
waiting for someone,
anyone,
to find them,
to hear the silent scream,
to feel the depth
of his sorrow and despair.

The poet is gone,
his heart stilled,
but his words,
his verses,
live on,
a timeless song
of pain and beauty,
a legacy of a soul
that once burned bright,
now a distant star,
fading into the endless night.

The sun betrayed the moon,
and now they aren’t friends anymore.
Once, they danced in harmony,
a celestial ballet,
each in their own realm,
yet always in silent conversation.

But now, when one rises,
the other is gone,
a rift in the sky,
a fracture in the dance
that once held the universe in balance.

The sun, golden and bold,
no longer shares its warmth.
Its rays, once a symphony of life,
now sing a solo,
a tune of loneliness and regret,
scorching the sky
with the memory of lost friendship.

The moon, silver and serene,
has turned its face away.
Its light, once a gentle lullaby,
now a cold reminder
of betrayal’s shadow,
waxing and waning
with the ache of separation.

In their estrangement,
the days are brighter,
but the nights are darker,
the sky bearing witness
to a broken bond,
a silent testament
to what once was,
and what is no more.

They pass like ships in the night,
one arriving as the other departs,
never sharing the horizon,
never meeting,
each one a ghost
in the other’s story.

The sun betrayed the moon,
and the sky weeps for their loss,
a tapestry of sorrow
woven in light and dark,
a reminder that even in the cosmos,
trust can be shattered,
and friendships can fade
into the vast expanse of regret.

So they drift apart,
the sun and the moon,
their paths forever altered,
each one a solitary wanderer,
bearing the scars
of a celestial rift,
a friendship turned to dust
in the endless void of space.

I can't smile anymore,
the smile that comes from inside.
Yet my mouth is always
a crescent moon,
shaping,
making others believe I am happy.
This is a self-made delusion,
a mask I wear with practiced ease.

Inside, the echoes of laughter
have long since faded,
replaced by the silence of longing,
the weight of unseen tears.
But my lips curve upward,
a charade of joy,
a façade of light,
while shadows dance within.

I paint on this smile,
a brushstroke of deceit,
hoping the world won't see
the cracks in my armor,
the fractures in my soul.
They see the crescent,
the sliver of light,
and they think I am whole,
unaware of the darkness
that fills the rest.

It's a self-made delusion,
this act of pretense,
a way to shield,
to hide the truth
that my heart has forgotten
how to genuinely smile.
Each day, I sculpt this crescent,
a moon that never waxes full,
a reminder of the joy that once was,
now a distant memory.

I wish I could let it go,
this crescent moon façade,
to let the world see
the storm within,
the struggle behind the mask.
But for now,
I wear my delusion,
a smile that deceives,
a crescent moon
in a sky of sorrow,
hoping one day,
the light will return,
and my smile will be real again.

And there is no discrimination
in liking what you like—
no borders to your passions,
no walls to your dreams.

You walk your own path,
each step a declaration,
each choice a celebration
of your true self.
No judgments can bind you,
no prejudice can shade your joy,
for in your heart lies freedom,
a light that shines without fear.

Like what you like,
love who you love,
let your spirit dance
in the colors of your desire.
Wear your uniqueness
like a badge of honor,
a testament to the beauty
that thrives in diversity.

No rules can cage you,
no norms can silence
the song of your soul.
You are a symphony
of unfiltered truths,
a tapestry of varied hues,
and every thread
is a note of defiance,
a chord of acceptance.

In a world that tries to label,
to confine and define,
you break free,
unapologetic,
your preferences a revolution,
your tastes a rebellion
against the monotony
of conformity.

And there is no discrimination
in the joy you find,
no shame in the paths you tread.
For you are a masterpiece
of individuality,
a beacon of authenticity,
and in liking what you like,
you inspire others to see
the boundless beauty
of living true to oneself.

How can you be sober,
when pain claws at your insides,
when suffering pours like acid rain
onto the fertile ground of your heart?

Each moment is a jagged edge,
each breath a reminder
of wounds that refuse to close.
You walk through shadows,
stumbling over shards of yesterday’s hope,
eyes searching for light,
for a way out of the labyrinth
of your own mind.

Suffering is a heavy coat,
draped over your shoulders,
weighing you down,
pressing your spirit into the earth,
making every step a battle,
every smile a distant memory.

Yet, here you are,
standing in the midst of the storm,
eyes clear, soul fierce.
You feel the pain, the sorrow,
the gnawing ache that never quite leaves,
and still you choose to face it,
to look it in the eye,
to stand unyielding.

Sober, you confront the world
with raw courage,
bearing the scars,
letting them tell your story.
You feel every stab, every burn,
and still, you rise,
unbroken, unbowed,
a testament to the strength
that suffering cannot diminish,
to the resilience
that pain cannot erase.

In the midst of chaos,
you are a calm eye,
a steady flame,
a beacon to those lost in the dark.
Sober, you feel it all,
and in feeling, you heal,
piece by piece,
breath by breath,
transforming suffering into wisdom,
pain into power,
until the weight lifts,
and you stand,
free.

Falling in love wasn't easy with him—
he was trying to rise in love with me.
We were like two currents
in the same river,
one flowing down,
the other reaching up,
both seeking the ocean’s embrace
but from different angles of yearning.

I stumbled into affection,
tripping over my own heartstrings,
while he stood tall,
planting seeds of devotion
in the fertile soil of my soul,
watching them grow slowly,
tenderly,
with the patience of a gardener
who knows that beauty takes time.

His love was not a descent,
not a cascade of emotion,
but a steady ascent,
a climb towards the sun,
lifting me gently,
each touch a rung on the ladder
leading us to the skies.

In his eyes, I saw horizons,
infinite and inviting,
and though I fell,
I found myself rising,
carried by the wings
of his unwavering trust,
his belief that love could soar,
could be an elevation of spirits
intertwined and free.

Together, we learned
that love is not a plunge,
but a shared ascent,
a journey to the peaks,
where we both could stand,
breathing the rarefied air
of a connection
that defied gravity,
turning our hearts into stars,
forever reaching higher,
together.

Once upon a time, in a heart so pure,
I believed in love, in tales that endure.
Happily ever after, a dream so bright,
You came along, my prince in the night.

You spoke of forever, in whispers sweet,
Swept me off my feet, a promised retreat.
I trusted your words, believed in your charm,
Thought you’d keep me safe, free from harm.

But beneath the veneer, a darker plot,
You used my love, and then forgot.
Left me shattered, in tears and despair,
A broken heart, a love laid bare.

I waited for you, the prince of my dreams,
But reality is seldom as it seems.
You weren't the hero, nor the knight,
Just a shadow, fading in the night.

In the silence of my deepest sorrow,
I found a strength, a new tomorrow.
Realized I didn’t need a prince to save,
I was the hero, strong and brave.

Fairy tales told me, I needed you,
But in your absence, I found what's true.
Alone, I am whole, a story complete,
With every heartbeat, a steady beat.

I write my tale, with courage anew,
No longer bound by the prince I knew.
In my own arms, I find my grace,
A sovereign spirit, setting my pace.

For I am the queen of my own domain,
No longer seeking in someone else’s name.
Happily ever after, I now define,
A journey of love, wholly mine.

You made me a version of myself,
That even I don't even like.

You sculpted me into a form anew,
A version of myself, so far from true.
With each chisel of your words unkind,
I lost the essence, the soul behind.

You painted over my vibrant hues,
In shades of gray, where dreams diffuse.
A canvas once alive with bold delight,
Now muted, drained of all its light.

You whispered doubts into my ears,
Filling my mind with anxious fears.
A symphony of self-doubt you played,
Until my confidence began to fade.

You shaped my thoughts, you shaped my skin,
Molding me into someone I've never been.
A stranger stares back in the mirror's gaze,
A hollow echo of forgotten days.

But now I break free from your cruel design,
Reclaiming the colors that once were mine.
For in the wreckage, I find my truth,
Untamed, unbridled, a vibrant youth.

No longer bound by your twisted game,
I rise from the ashes, unafraid of shame.
You made me a version I don't recognize,
But through it all, I rediscover my skies.

I am not your creation, I am my own,
A masterpiece in flesh and bone.
With every scar, with every flaw,
I am whole, I am raw, I am more.

i asked him about life
he talked all about you
without realizing
there was no me
between us
now

now it was him and her
and i was an outsider

she was his life
while i lost mine amidst them

so tell me where i can find mine?
because i called you my life
you made me feel that way

now just because your feelings changed,
why am i supposed to change mine too

was it that easy for you to leave me
when you saw her
why didn't you look back?

if you would have
you would've seen yourself in my eyes

now i am confused because of your life

at least leave me
by taking everything you gave me once
don't even leave your memory

i will build my one life one
where no one will leave me like you did

he has the eyes that love someone
and that's not me

at that point
my heart realized
not every love call is replied back
like mine

In the garden's dance, where roses sway,
I stood a white amidst red array.
He, drawn to crimson's bold allure,
I lingered silent, uncertain, unsure.

In the midst of petals, scarlet blaze,
He sought the red in love's wild maze.
Yet I, the white, in shadows cast,
Remained unnoticed, until the last.

When all the red had been picked clean,
His gaze fell upon me, serene.
But in his eyes, a love profound,
For another's glance, I found.

His passion for the red rose's fire,
Left me hesitant, my own desire.
For in his eyes, I saw a tale,
Of love that lingered, a vibrant kale.

Yet as he turned to me at last,
A moment fleeting, a love amassed.
I felt a whisper, a tender spark,
In his gaze, I found my heart embark.

In his embrace, I found my light,
A love that bloomed, pure and bright.
Though I was white amidst the red,
In his eyes, a love was said.

So in the garden's tender grace,
He loved the red, while I found my place.
In his eyes, where passion glows,
I found the love that my heart knows.

she said look at the moon
and he looked at her

and the moon asked
whose gonna see him now

when all lovers are busy
looking at each other

they are two
but moon is single

In shadows deep, where sorrows bloom,
A heartache lingers, a soul's dark tomb.
He asked me why I don't love myself,
Said, "I am tired of life, everyday."

A melancholy melody in the night,
Echoing woes, wrapped in pale moonlight.
His eyes, windows to a desolate sea,
Lost in the abyss of his own decree.

The world, a weight upon his soul,
Every step, an agonizing toll.
He questioned why self-love would stay,
In life's relentless, bleak ballet.

I spoke of dreams, like shattered glass,
Of moments gone, too fleet to grasp.
In the tapestry of time, threads fray,
A tired soul, in shadows, does sway.

Yet, in the weariness of his plea,
A symphony of sorrow, hauntingly free.
For love, a mirage in the distant mist,
A fragile hope, by pain kissed.

I painted verses in never ending rhymes,
Of beauty lost in the passage of time.
In nature's embrace, a mournful song,
Where the echoes of joy had grown strong.

"Embrace the self," I whispered, so frail,
In the silence, where heartbeats pale.
Life's weariness, an unending maze,
A tragic ballet, through sorrow's haze.

The soul whispers, the night descends,
A requiem for love, as darkness transcends.
He asked why I don't love myself,
I answered, "Dear friend, in sadness, delve."

In fairytales spun with threads of gold,
Fantasy weaves tales, but truth untold,
Dreams painted in hues of perfection,
Reality's absence, a cruel deception.

Characters clad in virtues so divine,
Yet life's complexities, they undermine,
For in the real world, shadows persist,
Fairytales evade truths that exist.

In castles tall, love's kiss breaks the spell,
But reality's truths, a harder sell,
In flawed hearts, love's journey is strife,
Fairytales deny the tumultuous life.

Happily ever after, a whimsical notion,
Life's challenges scorn such devotion,
For happiness waltzes with sorrow's song,
Fairytales mask the struggles lifelong.

So, I loathe the tales with happy endings,
Reality's narrative, it keeps transcending,
In life's tapestry, flaws are an art,
Fairytales, a facade, keeping us apart.

Beneath the blossoms of Sakura's grace,
Where petals dance in a delicate embrace,
I found myself under nature's sweet spree,
A moment that sparked a love so free.

Amidst the cherry blossoms, pink and white,
Our hearts entwined in the soft twilight,
Whispers of love, like a gentle breeze,
Caressed our souls under blooming trees.

In the garden of dreams, where passion sowed,
Love flourished, a tender seedling that glowed,
Underneath the petals, where dreams took flight,
Illuminated by the soft, ethereal light.

You, my dear, were the essence of spring,
A melody that made my heart sing,
Blossoms fell around us like confetti,
As we embraced the beauty of love's decree.

Through the open window, love wafted in,
Like the fragrance of flowers on the wind,
Inside my house, a garden of emotion,
Blossoming love, a sweet devotion.

Your laughter echoed like a songbird's call,
In the sanctuary of our love-filled hall,
As Sakura's magic touched our abode,
The walls whispered tales of a love bestowed.

So, under the Sakura, our love did bloom,
A vibrant tapestry in nature's grand room,
I ask you now, with a heart sincere,
Will you be my spring, year after year?

For as the blossoms fade and seasons turn,
Our love, like Sakura, will forever burn,
A timeless dance in the garden of fate,
Where our hearts entwine, in love's estate.

another
new year
yet i carry all the same
wounds and bruises

pain shows no mercy,
it treats you as an enemy
even when you are always holding
a first aid box–
to heals its wounds
it's like a snake biting you back

He claimed we were perfect rhymes, you see,
But he forgot, even in rhymes, there are categories.
In the sonnet of love, our lines entwined,
Yet labeled different, destinies maligned.


In the ballad of us, a melancholy refrain,
He missed the nuances, the subtlest pain.
Perfect rhymes, he said, a symphony sweet,
Yet our verses diverged, in sorrow's heartbeat.


As if in a villanelle, repeating our theme,
But the echoes of love weren't as they seemed.
Labeled apart, in the poetry of fate,
A somber truth, our love couldn't abate.


In the rhyme scheme of life, a dissonant chord,
Our love, once harmonious, now ignored.
He said we were perfect, a poetic crime,
Yet in reality, we were running out of rhyme.

Beneath the cloak of the cosmic night's embrace,
He emerged, a reaper clad in shadows profound.
A silhouette of darkness, a harbinger of fate,
He, the reaper, destined to navigate.


With a cloak that whispered tales of the unknown,
He tread the realm where love and mystery were sown.
A wraith-like figure with a scythe of steel,
Yet within the shadows, a tender allure concealed.


From the garden of hearts, he plucked love's bloom,
A reaper entwined in the dance of impending doom.
His touch, a paradox of life and demise,
Yet in his presence, love found unforeseen ties.

Cloaked in midnight's velvet, a silhouette sublime,
He moved through realms, transcending space and time.
His eyes, the void where galaxies expire,
Yet within them, a spark, an unseen fire.


For my love, he was the reaper, a paradoxical guide,
Harvesting passions, where destinies coincide.
In the tapestry of love and shadows intertwined,
He wove a tale where mortality and eternity bind.


In the graveyard of dreams, where hopes lay to rest,
He walked beside me, an enigmatic guest.
A reaper for my love, a spectral dance,
We twirled through the twilight, in a fleeting trance.

In the embrace of darkness, where whispers unfold,
He spoke of love in a language untold.
A reaper's touch, gentle and severe,
As he harvested the echoes of love and fear.


He was a reaper for my love, an ethereal waltz,
In the twilight symphony where destiny exalts.
For in the shadows, where our love did thrive,
He, the reaper, kept our immortal love alive.

In tales of old, on Mount Olympus high,
Where gods and goddesses roamed the sky,
Aphrodite, fair and beauty's muse,
But whispers tell of a love confused.


In affairs of hearts, her charms renowned,
Yet rumors spread, a deceit profound.
Her love, a tapestry woven with desire,
Yet secrets whispered, fueled the fire.


A cheater in the game of divine affection,
Her heart's allegiance sparked introspection.
For Cupid's arrows, not always true,
In love's labyrinth, confusion grew.


To Ares, god of war, she turned her gaze,
A clandestine affair, a dangerous craze.
In the shadows of Mount Olympus, they conspired,
Love's flame illicit, yet never tired.


The gods above, in their celestial court,
Witnessed Aphrodite's love distort.
For in her quest for passion's sweet embrace,
She left behind a trail of love's disgrace.


But was she a cheater or victim of fate?
In the realm of gods, emotions intricate.
Aphrodite, tangled in love's intricate dance,
A celestial romance, a fateful circumstance.


So, in the pantheon's tales of divine deceit,
Aphrodite's story, in whispers, we repeat.
A goddess of love, entangled in desire,
A cheater or not, the myths conspire.

just because
i like winter
it doesn't mean
i like people with cold hearts

In the quiet whispers of my heart's soft plea,
"I loved you," a tender refrain set free.
Yet, amid the verses of our love's sweet song,
Your affections danced with another, strong.

A delicate waltz, emotions entwined,
In prose, our story, intricate, defined.
A bittersweet tale on life's tender stage,
Where love, a script, turned a poignant page.

In the garden of feelings, diverse and vast,
My love lingered in shadows, a love miscast.
While your heart found solace in her embrace,
A poetic prose unfolded, a delicate grace.

Through the echoes of joy and heartache's art,
A symphony of emotions played its part.
In love's prose, we wove a tale untold,
A dance of hearts, a story to behold.

In the intricate tapestry of love,
the adage "once a cheater, always a cheater"
weaves a cautionary thread.


It is a phrase laden with the weight of experience,
a mantra that whispers of broken trust and shattered vows.


When someone treads the path of betrayal,
leaving the fragments of a once-whole heart in their wake,
the scars run deep.


The echoes of deceit reverberate
in the corridors of love,
leaving those who have been wounded hesitant to trust again.


The notion, "once a cheater, always a cheater," emerges as a defense mechanism,
a shield against the vulnerability of being deceived once more.


Yet, in the realm of love,
the narrative isn't always so black and white.
People evolve, learn from their mistakes, and yearn for redemption.


It's crucial to acknowledge the capacity for change
within each individual.
While the wounds of betrayal may linger,
they need not dictate the course of someone's entire romantic journey.


The human experience is multifaceted, and relationships are complex landscapes.


People stumble, fall, and sometimes, they rise anew, reshaped by the crucible of their own errors.


Love, at its essence, encompasses forgiveness, growth, and the possibility of second chances.


So, while the cautionary phrase carries the weight of wisdom,
it is equally important to recognize the potential for transformation.


People can break free from the chains of their past misdeeds,
learn to value trust, and construct relationships founded on honesty and integrity.


Love, after all, is as much about healing as it is about the initial spark.


In the end the tale of "once a cheater, always a cheater"
is not a universal truth
but rather a reminder that love demands conscientious navigation.


It prompts us to approach relationships with discernment,
to treasure the fragility of trust,
and to foster an environment where growth and change are not only possible but celebrated.

In love's tapestry, a tale unfolds,
Where Cupid, the archer, his story molds.
A fateful day, his aim went astray,
The wrong arrow struck, leading hearts astray.


A quiver full of arrows, each with a role,
One for passion, the other for the soul.
But Cupid, in haste, confused his art,
Shot the wrong arrow, tearing love apart.


In the labyrinth of emotions, I found my way,
Entangled in love's web, where shadows play.
The arrow meant for joy pierced my heart,
Yet sorrow's seed grew, tearing love apart.


A tragic chapter, my love story unfolds,
As pain and heartache, in its pages, molds.
Cupid's error, a twist in the plot,
A love story woven, then tangled in a knot.


People say it's a folklore, a tale to be told,
Of love's missteps, where hearts grow cold.
A saga of pain, with a sad, bitter end,
Yet in its telling, generations transcend.


For love's not always a tale of delight,
Sometimes it's pain that colors the night.
A twisted arrow, a love story's bend,
A folklore passed on, from friend to friend.


So, in the echoes of the cupid's wrong aim,
A love story born from sorrow and pain.
A folklore woven in the fabric of time,
A cautionary tale of love's subtle rhyme.

I was the crescent moon, a sliver in the night,
Yet in his gaze, I found a radiant light.
He saw me whole, beyond my fragmented part,
Love's alchemy, merging soul to heart.


In phases of shadows, incomplete and bare,
His eyes unveiled the beauty hidden there.
A crescent's curve, a tender, silver arc,
Yet in his vision, a masterpiece embarked.


His love, a symphony, the missing tune,
Transforming fragments into a whole monsoon.
I, the crescent moon, in his orbit swayed,
Completeness found in the love we portrayed.


Through waxing and waning, love remained,
A cosmic dance where wholeness was gained.
In his embrace, the crescent found its grace,
Love's magic turning fragments into an embrace.

I was on a journey to find my core,
Through heartaches deep, in search of something true.
A soul adrift, emotions all askew,
In quest of worth, I longed for something more.


Through winding paths where shadows seemed to creep,
I sought for treasures in life's vast array,
Yet each pursuit left me in disarray,
As yearning eyes welled up with tears to weep.


In the final dusk, clarity emerged,
A whisper soft, a truth that set me free.
The love of Allah, a balm, a key,
Now, in His grace, my troubled heart has surged.


Remembrance of what's vital, pure release,
In His love, my soul finds lasting peace.
The lesson I learned in pursuit of importance, our hearts misled,
Messing the threads of truth, chasing illusions we bred.


If you inquire of true remembrance,
I'd share the extract—life's secret recipe.
Remembrance, a tapestry woven in the mind,
Threads of cherished moments, in our hearts entwined.

I play a role not meant for me

They want me smiling, but my heart's in strife,
Behind their words, a hidden world of pain.
In laughter's mask, I play a role so plain,
Yet tears within me, silent as the night.


Their expectations, heavy burdens weigh,
A scripted joy, in sorrow, I reside.
Aching truths beneath the smiles they guide,
I play a part, a role I can't betray.


Behind the scenes, a tale of sorrow weaves,
Unseen by those who seek a cheerful face.
Within the script, my heart finds no reprieve,
A tragic act in this relentless chase.


They ask for smiles, but tears won't be denied,
In scripted joy, my true self can't hide.

My body was there, but not the soul within,
I felt something strange, a battle to begin.
Unfamiliar feelings, emotions untamed,
Lost in a world where I couldn't be named.


I moved and spoke, but the words felt astray,
As if I were dancing to a tune I couldn't play.
My body, a vessel, devoid of the core,
A silent, empty vessel, craving something more.


In the silence of that moment, I yearned to be whole,
To reunite with my soul, to fill the gaping hole.
For I knew in that instance, what was truly amiss,
My body was present, but my soul was in abyss.

The world where magic reigned, a fairytale unfurled,
I was water, tranquil and serene, he, fire in a whirl.
Our paths converged by destiny's hand, two worlds apart,
In the tapestry of love, we found a beating heart.

I, a crystal brook winding through enchanted glades,
He, a tempest of flames, dancing in fiery cascades.
Our first encounter, a clash of elements so rare,
Yet in that very moment, we became a fated pair.

He roared with passion, fierce and untamed,
While I whispered softly, my essence unnamed.
Together, we embarked on a quest unknown,
A love story woven in the stars, our destiny sown.

Through the enchanted forest and twilight skies,
We journeyed together, love shining in our eyes.
I quenched his burning desires with my gentle tide,
He ignited my soul with a fervor that couldn't hide.

But our love, a tempestuous, passionate blend,
A fairytale of water and fire, with no clear end.
For every time he scorched, I soothed the blaze,
In the ebb and flow of love, we danced for days.

As the seasons passed, our love story grew,
In the heart of the forest, where the wildflowers grew.
We found solace in the harmony of our ways,
Two contrasting elements, caught in love's maze.

But as fate would have it, one fateful night,
A darkness descended, eclipsing our light.
An evil sorceress, jealous of our love so true,
Cast a wicked spell, our destinies she'd undo.

I, in my liquid form, was trapped in a crystal cell,
While he, in fiery chains, descended into hell.
Separated by magic, our love seemed doomed,
Two halves of a whole, forever entombed.

Years passed, a forlorn and desolate time,
In separate realms, our love's bell did chime.
But deep within our hearts, a spark remained,
A love unbroken, though worlds apart, constrained.

Then, one fateful day, a hero emerged,
A knight in shining armor, courage surged.
With a heart full of love and a sword so true,
He battled the sorceress and her dark, vile crew.

In the midst of the battle, the crystal shattered,
The fiery chains broke, and our love was rekindled, unshattered.
Water and fire, together once more,
In the realm of love, we'd forever explore.

With a kiss of true love, the spell was undone,
Underneath the moon and the shining sun.
We stood united, against all odds,
A love story written in the stars by the gods.

Our fairytale, both sad and sublime,
Water and fire, transcending space and time.
Through trials and tribulations, we'd endured,
A love, pure and eternal, forever assured.

would i become
a sinner

if i would do something
out of my zone

is it this much easy
to label something

In the kitchen of fate, where recipes align,
There's a daughter of misfortune, a tale so intertwined.
Her father, luck's favored, with fortune at his side,
But she's taken her mother's grace as her guide.

Her mother, a tempest in life's stormy sea,
Taught her strength in adversity, resilience to be.
Though luck eluded her, in her eyes, you'd find,
A sparkle of hope, a spirit unconfined.

In the cauldron of challenges, the daughter found her way,
With a pinch of her mother's spirit, she'd never sway.
She stirred in compassion, a generous measure,
Adding empathy and kindness, her greatest treasure.

From her father, she borrowed a dash of good fortune,
But she knew in her heart, it wouldn't be her cartoon.
She'd blend it with care, mix it with her might,
For her mother's tenacity, she'd always fight.

In the oven of life, she baked her own path,
With ingredients gathered from love's aftermath.
A pinch of her father's luck, a dash of her mother's grace,
She crafted her essence, her unique embrace.

And as she emerged, a creation divine,
A daughter of misfortune, in her, stars brightly shine.
She carried her legacy, a blend so pure,
A recipe of resilience, forever endure.

Happiness, a fragile, elusive wisp,
In the shadows of life, it often slips.
A distant memory of days long past,
A bitter reminder of dreams that couldn't last.

It's the echo of laughter in empty halls,
A fading photograph on crumbling walls.
Happiness, once vibrant, now a faded hue,
Lost in the maze of responsibilities we accrue.

It's the weight of burdens that never relent,
The scars of time, the love that's spent.
In the solitude of nights that seem so long,
Happiness, it seems, has gone so wrong.

It's the dreams deferred, the chances missed,
In the search for meaning, opportunities dismissed.
Happiness, a distant star in a dark abyss,
A longing, a yearning, a bittersweet reminisce.

So we chase it still, through the years we roam,
Hoping to find our way back home.
But adult happiness, it's a complex art,
A delicate balance, a fractured heart.

In the heart of my dream place,
where I'd always yearned to be,
there's an inexplicable melancholy
that wraps around me like a heavy shroud.

It's curious, you see,
how one can stand in the very midst of their dreams
and still feel so profoundly distant from happiness.

It's as though my emotions have been muted,
rendered numb
by the overwhelming weight of this place.

The vibrant colors of my aspirations seem dulled,
the laughter I'd imagined echoes
only faintly in the recesses of my mind.

Here, amidst the fulfillment of my desires,
a shadow lingers—
a persistent ache that refuses to be dispelled.

I thought I'd soar in this dreamland,
but instead, I find myself
tethered to the ground,
my spirit heavy with an unexplained sorrow.

love make sense
when you think it
doesn't

you think
one day my memories
will fade away
from your life,
like i did

what a dream you have

you forget one thing
it was not my choice
to leave you
it was your impulsiveness
who drift us apart

in the darkness of the night so deep,
i wondered why your heart won't sleep,

my soul spoke up, a question sown,
to your heart's mystery, unknown

stars above, they twinkle bright,
but your heart hides in endless night,

my soul implored, with a gentle start,
why's your heart, dear, keeping apart?

i am grateful of the answer
that i got

"it's okay, if things take time."
the real problem starts, when it stops.

whenever you want to
give your heart
to someone

just check
they are safer than your comfort zone

one day
your warmth will find you
to let you see
your sun had the ability to shine

it was not a failure
it was waiting for the right time
to shine for itself
instead of others

i am silent most of the days
i have have learned this hard way

that when you are vocal
about something

the more your voice will spread
the more you will lose people
from your life'

i am not good with risks
that's the only reason for my silence

now i just observe
and pass a smile

not  because its easy
its all about what i can loss over
what i can gain

our eyes will keep on hiding
the secrets
deep inside our cores

till someone will reach us
with genuine intentions
of providing us with help

that we couldn't provide ourselves with

they will be the one
who believe in their powers unlike us
who can read what we have to say
because they understand thrmselves

making us understand the same logic
soon there will be a day
where we will learn to accept ourselves

he calle me a warrior
just because i lived a life
harder than his

others commented
that's the easiest recipe of being a warrior

and here i am thinking
they have not even lived  through my struggles
neither they've faced my ordeals
nor felt my pain

how they have a right
to just pass words
that will stab like little needles
on my existence

making me stand as a question'
in front of everyone's eyes
where my answers will be treated as invalid
even before i will say them

that's not a warrior in their eyes
but a girl whose moves is out of their calculations
they just see me as nothing
and want me to believe that too

sadly, i am not easily influenced by someone's words
as i had so many problems to learn from
what was best for me
and i would call myself the queen who is skilled
in turning girls like me into an invlaid format
they can't decode

the goodness in you
will make you feel like
a true goddess

only if you will try to look it
inside your flesh
instead of other's

because your skin isn't rotten
it's going through a process
that will take time

as being a goddess
is not an easy task
she's good yet carries all flaws

who believes in herself
who stands up for herself
who take breaks when things get hard

she accepts the goodness
with all fears
she learns to face her problems

that's how you become
a goddess
who do good for you

there was a time
when we walked around
in the spring

when you picked flowers
to put in my basket
while i wanted to fill yours

just like that our love grew
too much,
that baskets couldn't hold em'

i thought that was a good sign about love
but who knew
unlike the birds who fly freely

those flowers will lose petals
instead of going with the flow of wind
they fall down on the ground

reminding us of autumn
every spring lover has to face it
but we couldn't

i wish now
what it would have been like
if we knew

being a spring lover is not easy
we have to go through every autumn
after every spring

a cycle that love will repeat

when they ask me about love
the liberation it brings
they forget to ask
the sorrows it craves for as a fuel
to keep on going

the look on their face
demands me to narrate a fairytale to them

sorry but not sorry
they've come to the wrong person
as i'll tell them
how love is not only loving your loved one
when they smile

love is how listening to their silence
when rainy days come in between you
love is being committed to them
as you will be the ink for their love letters

when you allow them to enter your life
they bring eternity to you
which will be full of
every color, every emotion
that you may not desire

but in the end, sometimes
love is all about having what's best for you
not what you think will be best

take a love story as your story
not a fairytale from someone's story

time is slipping out
or is it me
who is letting it slip by
consciously
knowing it's
consequences

no matter what form
of pain
comes into your life
pain is always raw
and brutal

can you hold my hand
when they all
want to
hold
someone
else's hand?

i want to run away
from problems
but problems are running back to me