In silence, I sit — where no voices call,
Alone with my thoughts, behind an unseen wall.
Emotions unspoken, heavy as stone,
Yet within this stillness, I’m never quite alone.
For when the heart breaks, the soul starts to write,
In the language of shadows, in the hush of the night.
Unreturned love — a ghost passing through,
Yet it paints my world in a deeper hue.

It teaches me how to see with closed eyes,
To find hidden truths beneath all goodbyes.
To hold fleeting chances with gentler hands,
To stand where I fall, to rise where I stand.

So call it sorrow, or name it art —
This ache that awakens the sleeping heart.
For though love fled and never turned back,
It left behind verses I never knew I had.

I admire everything about you—
not in the way one admires a passing flower,
but as the earth admires the sun:
distant, constant, and necessary for every bloom within me.

I do not understand why God shaped us in bodies of clay,
when what truly unravels my soul
is not the shape of your hands
but the silence between your words,
where your kindness breathes and your truth resides.

I did not fall for what eyes can measure—
not for your face, your frame,
but for the invisible glow of your character,
for the way your heart moves like soft wind over still water,
disturbing something deep within me I thought had long gone quiet.

Your presence is a prayer I never learned to say,
but feel answered every time you smile—
a smile that does not just light a face,
but melts the frost in places I didn’t know were cold.

And your voice—
it doesn’t speak so much as it hums through the chambers of my being,
like the echo of rain in a sacred cave,
making me wonder:
are you truly made of the same dust as I,
or are you some hidden fragment of heaven
that God forgot to name when He whispered stars into the sky?

And still I ask, in awe and trembling:
Is it you that I love—
or is it the glimpse of God I see through you,
the divine fingerprint etched in the way
you make me believe again
in the beauty of simply being?

Still, your name softly lingers in the quiet halls of my mind,
a gentle echo that time cannot erase or unwind.
Your face, like a fading light at the edge of dusk,
rests tenderly in the folds of memory’s husk.

I wonder why your presence holds such gentle sway,
like a distant star that guides the night’s slow ballet—
a subtle thread woven through the fabric of my days,
a quiet song that hums in delicate ways.

I do not wish to be a prisoner of mere shadows and dreams,
but to build from hope a love that flows like gentle streams—
one that will quietly ripple through the stillness of the world,
when you choose me, and our story is softly unfurled.

And when the eyes of others glance upon our secret grace,
they’ll see not just a chance, but a sacred embrace—
a bond that words could never fully define,
a tender truth written beyond the bounds of time.

Know that I wait with steady grace,
Hiding pain no one sees in this space.
Behind each smile, a fragile light,
That shines despite the darkest night.

I am not who I was before—
Worn by sorrow, aching at the core.
The echoes of heartbreak haunt the night,
Yet still I stand, still I fight.

Once shattered dreams lay at my feet,
Their whispers cold, their silence sweet.
But from the cracks, a light grew wide,
A fiercer love I could not hide.

Now I strive to be whole and new,
With dreams to chase and hopes to pursue.
I stitch my soul with gentler thread,
Finding strength where once I fled.

I wake each day with steady hands,
Building castles from shifting sands.
A heart prepared to give and grow,
To bloom again, to overflow.

I water joy with tears I’ve shed,
Raise prayers from the words I’ve never said.
In solitude, I’ve come to see
The depth of love begins with me.

And still, my spirit turns to you,
To something felt but never knew.
A bond unseen, yet somehow near,
A name unspoken, but always dear.

And when that moment finally comes,
I want you to hear these quiet drums—
The rhythm of a soul once torn,
Now healed by all the storms it’s worn.

The wounds I carried, now healed through,
Softened and made whole by you, my lover true.
Not as a savior, nor as a cure,
But one who loves me strong and pure.

So if you find me—worn but wise,
With softer voice and clearer eyes—
Know this heart has walked through flame,
And still believes in love’s sweet name.

When you arrive, no grand parade,
Just quiet peace in scars that fade.
And in your arms, I’ll softly say:
“Thank you for coming all this way.”

Here, I suffer—not from wounds of flesh,
But from the torment of the mind’s cruel mesh.
Each thought a thread, each thread a chain,
Binding my soul in silent pain.

I am abused by time’s relentless hand,
That parts two hearts meant to stand.
Not in conflict, nor in spite,
But by the ticking of day to night.

Time does not wound like blade or flame,
It steals in silence, without name.
It pulls you far, while I remain,
A shadow wrapped in sweet refrain.

I call your name in midnight air,
But only echoes answer there.
My heart still knows the rhythm true
Of every breath that once was you.

Yet I believe—no, I know—deep down,
Fate will not let this love be drowned.
Time, too, shall one day weave,
Two destined souls it will conceive.

If I had the power, I’d hold time still,
Freeze the stars by sheerest will.
Let sun and moon forget their dance,
To give our story one more chance.

I’d build a world where clocks don’t chime,
Where love exists outside of time.
A space untouched by age or end,
Where soul meets soul, as lover and friend.

And there we’d stay—beyond space’s will—
In silent peace, in golden still.
No ticking hours, no fleeting start,
Just the eternal union of soul and heart.

How much of me must fall before your gaze,
How many walls must crumble into dust,
To show the soul that hides behind this maze,
And prove that love is more than hope or trust?

You see the shape my hands have built with care,
But not the heart that beats to match your own.

I rise, not just to earn a place up there,
But so beside you, I’ll be fully known.
No throne I seek, nor glory’s fleeting flame—
Just quiet nearness when the veils descend.

And if fate lifts the curtain on my name,
I pray you’ll meet not stranger, but a friend.
For every step I take is meant to be,
The road that leads my hidden self to thee.

I walked with hope, heart open wide,
But often met the sting of pride.
Misjudged, used, cast aside —
Still, I rise, with tears I hide.

I gave my truth with hands held high,
Yet watched it crumble, questioned why.
Their silence loud, their hearts astray,
But I remain — I’ll find my way.

Yes, I could walk this road alone,
Carve dreams from dust, make them my own.
But what is triumph, cold and bare,
If there's no soul to truly care?

I long to be a spark, a light,
A voice for wrong, a stand for right.
Though fragile in this inner fight,
I'll bear the weight, I'll climb the height.

To serve, to heal, to lift, to be
A strength for those who cannot see.
For faith, for kin, for this dear land —
I give my all with trembling hand.

So let them leave, let them not see,
The quiet fire that lives in me.
I’m not for fame, nor hollow praise,
But for the hearts that hope to raise.