They who do little
dream much !

Where nothing is done much is talked about .

In the crucible of life's disappointments,
I've been shattered time and again,
My past, a relentless specter haunting my present.

All I've known is the rush of fear,
As I yearn for a sanctuary to call my own,
A safe haven amidst the chaos.

Do I appeal to the gods for answers,
Or embark on a quest to find solace?
A sanctuary where my spirit can roam freely,
Or an oasis of tranquility to soothe my troubled soul.

Despite my vow to be gentle with myself,
I find myself swallowing bitter pills of memory,
Unable to leap for joy when confronted with the past.

I've been led to believe that my past shapes my future,
Yet the universe seems intent on draining me dry,
Leaving only the ember of happiness within.

In search of a refuge to conceal my scars,
I find it staring back at me from within,
My inner self, a sanctuary waiting to be embraced.

Within your chest, an agonizing ache resides,
A relentless burn until the blood within congeals.
Outside, beads of sweat form upon your brow,
Inside, an unquenchable thirst begins to gnaw,
A longing that begs for satiation.

Your mind besieged by unyielding thoughts,
Refusing release, refusing freedom's embrace.
Obsession tightens its grip, seizing control,
Leaving you feeble, leaving you defenseless.
The torment persists, and so does the heart's agony.

It blazes on, flames of torment licking at your soul,
Deeper than comprehension, scorching your essence.
You feel its searing heat, its unforgiving intensity,
Yet all you can do is endure, resigned to its grasp.

Selling the elixir of youth
It sounds so shrewd uncouth
Selling meaningful beauty
It’s sold as a woman’s duty

What would you do to achieve?
That which the commercials deceive
Women buy into the hype, at what cost
Spending obscene amount of money lost

Pressuring woman to feel less inferior
A fake false façade on the exterior
The true essence of a woman lives within
A smile, her luminescent grin

Her radiant inner beauty shines through
Naturally cultivated as she grew
The light Shines in her eyes and in her face
From God’s beauty and loving Grace

A modern quatrain with rhythm AABB