When I see your face slowly fade from my memory, I sometimes sink into melancholy.

I squeezed the azure sky with my poetically charged fists.
The earth was covered in a blue ocean. Everything turned bluish! The one-color world blinded humans' criminally discriminating eyes.

Close to everything.
Not fixed in anything,
like a dream.

Fairness is not a promise; rather, it is an expectation of all humans who feel that life is fair to all.

When your heart is blind, you are blind.

Which eyes captured the dream?

You said that you had given up on my love.

That is a ridiculous claim!

Nothing that isn't yours can be given up.

Let peace be the new language our hearts shall speak.

Let it mend the wounds that hatred has wrought.

When the eyes were first opened, there was no life to be seen; only the walls.

Where has everyone gone?
Nobody I know is visible here.
Will at least a few return?
What happens if none do?
Can I spend a long time here by myself?
Will it be worthwhile, if at all.
I want to remain because I need to motivate them to return, regardless of what happens.
Do I have a chance of success?
Well, I'm clueless right now, but I'm going to stay here to be available to others.

Machines learn and grow,
Humans falter, lose their way.
AI reigns, we bow and rue.

Why did you take away the joy you provided me while staying away by drawing closer to me?

I turned Sky into Ocean and Ocean into Sky to prove that Sky is not the limit for my poetic imagination.

His on stage shows were like a moonlit rainbow, rare but spectacular.

Don't see big dreams. Make big dreams out of small ones.

The spiritual discourse was over, my soul felt so strong,
thought my mind was clear, but I was surely wrong,
But as I left the hall, rain poured with no remorse,
I cursed at life, as I walked back into the hall distraught,
I realised that my mind is a slave to the elements, not higher powers.

I got to work on a poem in the moonlight. I made notes on a piece of paper of everything that came to me. My cluttered mind was not satisfied, though. The paper was shredded by me. however, I was drawn to a single line on a piece of shredded paper that read as follows:
"Poetry has a consciousness of its own.
It will become apparent "
I zealously resumed writing.

The onset of a desire signals the onset of a challenge and the onset of a setback.

That shock and a lifetime of silence

Reading a few extracts from great books gave him access to rare human insights. But it only lasted as long as he continued to read.

Your lies of others have turned into worms that are devouring my mind.

Appreciation is tough to receive, but it is even more difficult to offer.

Why is my mind not what it was yesterday? Who changed that?

Be a song that brings deep joy to the soul, not just a verse that skims over it like a misplaced note.

Intelligence fails, but stupidity never.

Who wants a victory that no one else recognises?

Perfection is an infatuation that has gone too far.

With your dream of a family, children, and a happy home, you defused my exploding dreams.

I fell for it because it seemed within my grasp.

I  will write
for eternity
if you promise
to read everything
I write.

Your tongue reveals your pedigree.

A
placid acceptance of predicament.

The sea of life has no harbours.

Because we believe we lack any qualities that would appeal to their tastes, the majority of us rarely express our liking to others.

We are cutting down the tree of life.

We live on in other people's minds forever, like priceless or painful memories.

Your crushing waves of distrust reduced me to dust and carried me to a land of faith.

His poisoned heart was the epicenter of all unrest in the community where he lived.

I only want a small space to scribble down a few lines of poetry that will endure forever.

Isn't Love some form of emotional levitation?

Pursuing victory for personal glory is not a honourable thing.

The letter you wrote for me has arrived. It's wet. I'm not sure what made it wet—your tears or the rain that poured along the way. It cannot be read. But I'm curious which of my two conclusions would please you.

Where perfection ends, creativity begins.

Living days are dwindling.
The will to live is fading.
Let's give it another shot.
Let us live with everyone equally before we descend into the depths of death together.

Faith's roots are intertwined. The poison of distrust is injected into one of them. Both trees fall together.

The mind, like a fossil, is constantly trying to cling to its decommissioned past.

When left undisturbed, a disturbed  mind and water become clearer.

You are the crown's chin over the dagger's charm.