I lose my shape, shattered
In turmoil, deeply battered
Beneath my veil, head bowed and tattered.

I lose my way, defeated
In steps that forget to plead,
In anger blind to its misdeeds.

O Master of the Universe,
I am lost,
Forgotten the path of obedience.

O Ruler of the Horizon,
At Your door, I knock in submission,
To embrace the light of devotion.

They say its easier said than done.
I say, not poetry.
Its easier done than said.

Give me a break!
Sometimes, it’s too much to take.
The winds have not been kind to me,
for I am the dark horse in your wicked games.

I’m making my way, often slaving away
Given a chance to start over,
I’d choose not to play.

‘It is what it is’, I say, and let it be.
I sacrificed my youth at the altar of perfection, thinking, ‘How bad can it be?’

I try to be, more than eyes can see.
But I’m just a shadow of a terrified kid,
hiding behind my fallen dreams.

It’s all so dull, the colours have faded -
I couldn’t do much when the demons invaded.
I’ve been dragging their chains for far too long,
never whole, never free.
I’m sorry!
I’m just not used to it, like I used to be.  

Yet I see a light, though not as bright
It flickers every night, telling me to put up a fight.
I must protect it from the ungodly winds,
lest it should die somewhere deep inside.  

But I'm only human, my friend.
Please don't be so ******* me.
I'm tired of losing sleep over
the promises I could never keep.
There's no way out, it seems.
Guess I'm in too deep.
**** it!
I’d rather be the dark horse
than the black sheep.

Do me a favour,
please don't lose your faith in me!
I locked away the things I loved,
and now I can't seem to find the key.
I'll be back before you know it,
ready to go again, on the count of three.
Just give me a break!
I’m not used to it, like I used to be.

Wave after wave, a playful gale flurries,
To the outstretched palm of Mother Nature,
Each tamed to a steady caress,
As she tends, lovingly nurtures,
Her arboretums underwater,
Where blooms and seaweed sway, unbothered.

An albatross aloft, above,
Not biting on wind’s game of riddles,
Indifferent to which way comes gust,
Unfazed, steadfast, like sky-held buoy.

Then blows my way, at last,
Someone to toy - I’m not as rigid,
And flutters my lips to swear out dust.
I fall for it so easily. Oh boy.

In my journey as a marketer and strategist, working within the dynamic world of media and advertising, I’ve come to realize that success is not born from flashes of creative brilliance alone. It is something deeper, a persistent force; grit, that has driven my professional development and growth. It has become clear to me that in an industry where innovation, creativity, and strategy is highly valued, it’s not simply enough to have vision. Sustaining that vision requires dedication, discipline, and the ability to weather setbacks with unwavering resolve.

Early in my career, I believed that raw talent or the next big idea would be the key to success. But with time, I came to see that ideas, much like passion, are fleeting unless coupled with a dogged commitment to execution. Campaigns aren’t made great by the initial spark of inspiration; they succeed through relentless iteration, feedback, and optimization. It’s not the glamour of pitching an idea that creates long-term impact; it’s the persistence in refining it, over and over, even when the outcome isn’t immediately clear.

I’ve learned that in media and advertising, failure is inevitable. Campaigns don’t always hit the mark, trends shift, and audiences are ever-evolving. But rather than being discouraged by setbacks, I’ve grown to view them as critical moments in my professional development. Each challenge, whether it’s a missed opportunity or a campaign that falls short, has become a lesson in resilience. With each, I’ve honed my ability to pivot, to absorb feedback, and to adapt; skills that are as essential as creativity in this fast-paced industry.

In the same way that grit shapes personal success, it’s the cornerstone of professional growth in media. Success is less about having one breakthrough moment and more about showing up every day with determination, ready to push forward despite the obstacles. I’ve seen how those who persist, who learn from failure, and who continuously strive for improvement in their craft are the ones who ultimately thrive.

As I reflect on my career, I understand now that it wasn’t my initial creative spark that defined my trajectory, but my willingness to grind through the mundane aspects of the process, to work toward long-term goals even when progress was slow. It’s this fusion of passion and perseverance that has allowed me to turn ideas into impactful campaigns, and to evolve in an ever-changing industry.

—

It’s not the spark that lights the flame,
But steady hands, day after day.
A mind that bends but will not break,
Through every challenge, for progress’ sake.

It’s not in speed, nor strength, nor flight,
But rising up, time after time.
For grit is forged in quiet strain,
A constant push against the grain.

When all seems lost, and dreams grow dim,
Grit finds the strength to try again.

— Sincerely, Boris

I hold on too tightly,
You tell me to ‘tread lightly.’
Fearful to let go,
you tell me “let’s just take it slow.”
you pull away;
I pull you close.

My nails sink deep into your skin,
You flinch away in pain-
I apologize,
Yet I pull you close again.

I kissed you too hard,
until your lips were blue and sore.
I ran my fingers down your back,
And made you bleed some more.

I kissed your neck,
Then you started to choke.
I held your face in my hands,
until it was fear I started to evoke.

I held you tight,
you started to suffocate.
I held on with all my might,
you continued to hesitate.

now I’ve lost you;

I hadn’t realized my hands had claws,
I had you clenched in my jaws.
If I could’ve just paused,
Maybe I’d seen the harm I’d caused.

Please understand what I have to do;
it was far too much to put us both through.

Now I keep my distance,
I couldn’t continue my persistence.
My kisses no longer linger,
like a bee whose lost its stinger.  

I stung you,
and pulled out my insides.

I won’t hold my lips to you neck,
or wait to hear your pulse.
I left us such a wreck,
I clung onto you like an impulse.

I held on too tightly,
until I had to completely let you go.
Now you’re just a pain that visits nightly,
you came in at a point where I was already at a low.

Why couldn’t I just take you slow?

Once more, I find myself
believing every word you said—
a fragile hope,
woven and tangled in my mind.
It wasn’t right then,
and it isn’t right now,
lost in the labyrinth
of a heart that won’t bow.
I should have seen it coming;
the signs were all there.
Yet I wished upon a star,
caught in a silent prayer.
Your final lie,
the shatter of trust—
a haunting reminder
of love reduced to dust.
Why do we seek refuge
in ****** tales,
or cling to Disney dreams,
where true love prevails?
Because only in those dreams
do honest men exist—
not in fractured truths
or silent, torn screams.
I don’t even know
what truly makes me sad—
a quiet ache,
a lingering shadow of doubt.
I called it then,
and now I see it clear:
the echoes of your words—
I no longer need to hear.

A zillion image of me rest in so many minds
I dare not swim into them

I have my own ocean to swim in
That connects me to the sea bed of my heart
The seat of my soul

For now this is my only intention
For now this is my only attention
For now this is the purpose I breath into life
----------------

They watch you silently
Then judge you loudly

It’s laughable

They have so much to say about you
But nothing to say to you

It’s delirious

They have so much to say about you
But no relationship with you

It’s ironic

They have so much to say about you
outside the relationship
but not in the relationship

Its epiphanies

They have so much to say about you
But never held a conversation with you

It’s bizarre ~ hold on!
It’s their instincts? Ooh wait their six senses?

They have a problem with you
But don’t even hold your number

It’s comical
Wait! How did that possibly happen?

Creating stories in their minds of you
Confirming the stories into other minds
Spreading their impressions among a few

Then stories solidify into truth
in the eyes of a few
Now open to all as a matter of truth
Now all is open to accept as face value

Little do they know
I’m flattered by all their attention
Care little of all their perceptions
Unimpressed by all their expressions of me

Idle it all is to my essence

Meanwhile,
I'm glad to be a subject of entertainment
To fill the empty spaces of boredom in their life

I said it before but I’ll say it again
What you speak of others in their absence
Says more about the speaker than the subject

Thank you for being here
NwK

Wrath

No matter what I do or say,
I’m never enough, always a step away.
I try to keep up, wear myself thin,
But all I feel is the burn within.
If I could change, I swear I would,
But trying and failing still hurts, as it should.


Pride

In the mirror, I see a man undone,
Not proud, but broken, the lesser one.
No arrogance here, no smug facade,
Only a soul bruised, and left flawed.
Superior? No, I shrink from the view,
Hating myself far more than I do you.


Lust

Lust is a sneaky, seductive beast,
I’ve given in, but found no feast.
Those urges led to hollow roads,
But I broke free, shed those heavy loads.
Desire comes, but I’ve learned to be,
Unshackled, with a heart finally free.


Greed

I once held tight, refusing to share,
The world was mine, I didn’t care.
But time changed me, and now I see,
Greed’s lost its hold, no longer on me.
My hand is now open, I’ve learned to give,
Unburdened, I can finally live.


Envy

I used to ache for someone's life,
Trapped in longing, never satisfied.
Why not me? I’d wonder and weep,
Until something shifted, I could sleep.
Now I’m a man content with less,
Grateful in ways I never confess.


Gluttony

Food may not be my chosen vice,
I’ve drowned in pleasures, paid the price.
It is but the need to fill,
The endless void that lingers still.
This hunger for escape, it eats away,
But I know its tricks, it's clear as day.


Sloth

I set my goals, yet never reach,
Room to grow, but I don’t breach.
I drift through days, no purpose found,
A ghost in waiting, with silent sound.
What is my worth, what should I be?
I ache for meaning, to finally see.