In sorrow’s night so deep and still,
A flame begins to spark and spill.
It hums of love, of ancient fire
That lifts us from the depths of mire.

The bee may sting, the skin may tear,
But deeper grows the heart’s repair.
For pain plants seeds that bloom in grace,
And loss can light a sacred space.

O soul, arise like golden rays,
And burn through fear’s encircling haze.
Let love ignite, let hope embrace–
A dance of dawn, a warm retrace.

Tread soft through woods where silence sings;
Feel earth’s calm breath beneath your wings.
Find roots below the floods and rain,
Where life still pulses through the pain.

Though dreams may bend, they do not break;
Our voices rise for justices’ sake.
We call the promise, far but clear–
A world where all are held sincere.

So guard this light within your chest,
A lantern in the night’s unrest.
Through struggle’s path, let hope remain–
For morning comes to crown our pain.

Hoarse and devil-like.
He was blue.
Charming and flew;
a shooting star,
but below earth.
Below observable boundaries.
Not real; made-up.
Ocean huge,
blue, not fire.
Burnt, patched-up
by tears flowing high
away from the stars.
The sky lit up
with solitude's abyss.
It wrapped him up
with social boundaries.

Close-winged angel.
She was velvet-red.
Hopeful and greedy;
catastrophe struck,
enveloping their home,
bounding her sight.
SHE,
VELVET RED,
full of life; un-wanting of it.
Her soft heart
grows dark.
"Look" - "She wants it".
She cried; blood - pain.
A hole she dug with society's help.
Tied her down - with social boundaries.

They argue in threads they barely read,
Just dopamine and capslocked tweets.
No questions asked, no space to try —
PEOPLE READ, NOT TO UNDERSTAND BUT TO REPLY.

My mum used to pause her reading now and then.
Rustle the paper. Give a sigh.
Then, looking over her glasses to us kids at play,
“I don’t know what this World is coming to”
She’d say.

Of course, we never used to listen.
What child ever did or does?
Which probably explains the reason why mums still say
I don’t know what the World is coming to
Today.

I mean, Black Lives Matter, of course they do.
And Social Distancing, it ain’t much fun.
But gracious me, with all that stuff on social media, eh?
I don’t know what the World is coming to
Today.

Hey,
you're right,
there are shadows
at night,
that are cradling
twilight,
whispers echo
with fright
towards the end.

They've seen
mosquitos glow,
blood sinking in,
When & how
deniable
becomes sin.

Such gentle hearts,
victims
drinking up,
poisoned
all the wells,
polluted
and exposed.

As time winds back,
future turns black,
swollen are our soles,
fingers are pointed,
toward to fireflies
Its our day to tread
wounds that bled.

You try your best,
to stand out of the rest.
Little did you know it had a cost.
Learn to find your way or you'll get lost.

When they start looking up to you,
they'll keep asking you what to do.
Don't get too attached, our you'll be their answer tool.
If you fail to give a satisfactory answer, you're no more than just a fool.

But who truly is the fool?
The user, or the tool?
The giver, or the receiver?
The puppet, or the master?

It all depends on how you perceive it.
People do not realize it one bit,
realize that you're the same as them too.
But their ignorance made them unable to.

Sugarcoated intentions,
are like cursed potions.
Angel in disguise?
gamble, to meet your demise.

Whispers sweet nothings to your ears,
will make you reveal your fears.
Once you start talking to the demon.
And you enjoyed it after talking for an eon.
The next time it talks to someone,
It'll use your voice to fool everyone.

What did you do to deserve this kind of treatment?
Infact, all you wanted was to get an achievement.
Now you're bombarded with unexpected expectations.
From people you barely know, saying congratulation.

Pick your choice,
stand out, but lose your voice.
Or compress, for your skills to be overshadowed.
Pick wisely, for your reputation takes years to load.

Your choice determines your reputation.
Shine, to be used for the wrong intention,
or hide, for your skills to be shunned in one swift motion.
Pick, or do it wisely as this is real, not fiction.