In a world so vast and wide,
Seeking answers, yet they hide,
In the shadows of my mind.
Paths diverge, which way to go?
Questions linger, answers slow,
Heart and mind in constant fight,
Searching for a guiding light.
Dreams and hopes, they intertwine,
In this maze, I seek a sign,
To find my way, to understand,
The mysteries of this land.
Yet in confusion, there’s a spark,
A chance to make a brand new mark,
For in the chaos, I might find,
A clearer path, a peace of mind.
But now I walk this road alone,
Since fate has taken you, my own,
Your memory, a guiding star,
Though you’re gone, you’re never far.
In the silence, I hear your voice,
In the darkness, I make a choice,
To carry on, though heart does ache,
For your love, my soul’s awake.
With God’s support, I find my way,
Through nights so dark, and brightest day,
Heaven waits, a promise true,
One day, my love, I’ll be with you.

In twenty-four, the streets aflame
a tempest brewed, a nation’s shame.
Southport’s wounds still fresh and raw,
three children lost their lives, a flaw.
False whispers spread through cyberspace,
the stabber’s name, a twisted chase.
Muslim, seeker, both or none
the spark ignited, chaos spun.
England, torn by fear and hate,
far-right voices, venom’s weight.
Riots surged from Southport’s core,
a wildfire leaping, burning more.
Arson’s dance, a crimson waltz,
shops looted, streets in tumult’s pulse.
Police van torched, officers besieged,
a fractured nation, wounds unseized.
Islamophobia’s venom seeped,
racist fervour, hatred steeped.
Disinformation’s murky tide,
Russia’s whispers amplified.
Yet amidst the flames, a counterforce—
Stand Up to Racism, voices hoarse.
Anti-fascists, Muslims, too,
clashed with rioters, hearts askew.
In this fractured hour, we seek the light,
to mend the rifts, reclaim the night.
For England’s soul, a plea resounds:
heal the wounds, find common grounds.
I stand against the darkness,
where prejudice and anger collide.
My words, a beacon of empathy,
a bridge across the chasm wide.
For love knows no division,
no borders drawn by fear.
In unity, we find strength,
and hate dissolves when love is near.
So let us rise above the chaos,
embrace compassion’s flame.
Together, we’ll extinguish hate
and heal the wounds that bear our name.

Silent tears fall,
Heart feels heavy,
Mind in turmoil,
Darkness surrounds,
Hope seems distant,
Lost and alone,
Searching for light,
Fighting the shadows,
Strength within,
Rising again.

Why do we poison the air we breathe,
The water we drink,
The soil beneath our feet?

The stars, aloof and ancient,
Smile down with silent knowing,
As we unreeve our cradle's threads,
And stain the blue with our discord.

Why do we strip the forests bare,
Choke the rivers with our refuse?

In the lap of the Milky Way,
We are a fragile gem, unique, irreplaceable.

Yet, we smother the sky in smog,
Turn the seas into desolate deserts,
As if we could find another oasis
In the cold expanse.

Once, we cherished the golden dawn,
The twilight’s tender embrace.
Now, we blindfold our eyes
To the beauty we obliterate.

Why do we forget our duty
To nurture, to protect, to love?

Our home, the whispering Earth,
Begs for compassion,
Yet we answer with apathy.

There is no other refuge,
No second chance among the stars.
Our planet, vibrant and alive,
Cries for mercy,

Yet

We plunder,

We pillage,

We proceed.

In the silence of the cosmos,
A solitary plea resounds,
Why do we destroy the only home
That cradles us, in infinite bound?

It was January last Wednesday,
When the moon turned bright green,
The stars danced a tango,
And the sun wore a sheen.
The clouds sang a lullaby,
To the mountains so high,
While the rivers played hopscotch,
With the fishes passing by.
The trees whispered secrets,
To the birds in the air,
And the flowers wore hats,
Made of chocolate eclairs.
The wind told a joke,
That made the rocks laugh,
And the grass did a jig,
On the giraffe’s behalf.
So if you see a rainbow,
On a snowy summer’s day,
Just remember this tale,
Of January last Wednesday.

Drip, drip, hope flows in,
Silent strength in every drop,
Warrior within.

In the corners of a bustling day,
A chance encounter, a smile, a simple "Hey."
Two paths converging, like rivers that blend,
In that moment, I found a new friend.

Eyes that sparkle with stories untold,
A heart that's warm, a spirit bold.
Laughter shared over coffee and tea,
In your company, I feel truly free.

We talk of dreams, of hopes, and fears,
Of past adventures, and future years.
In your presence, time seems to bend,
For in you, I've found a kindred friend.

Through ups and downs, through thick and thin,
With you, I know, we both will win.
A bond that's strong, a hand to lend,
In you, I've found a lifelong friend.

So here's to us, to new beginnings,
To shared moments, and endless winnings.
In the tapestry of life, a beautiful blend,
For in you, I've found a true friend.

Endless night, no rest,
Silent screams within the dark,
Mind adrift, alone.

I think I got a little bit smelly,
From running around and being so silly.
But a splash of water and a bit of soap,
Will freshen me up, I surely hope.

With bubbles and laughter, I’ll scrub away,
The grime and the dirt from my playful day.
And soon I’ll be clean, from head to toe,
Ready for more adventures, let’s go!

Day Fades
Twilight takes
Stars chase
Pillows soft
Dreams aloft
Moonlight dances
Silver calls
Night whispers
Guide to sleep
Blankets wrap
Warm and Tight
Night guardians
Eyes heavy
Breathing slows
Slumbers arms
Gently sleep
Tomorrow waits
For now, Rest Quiet
Dream far and free
As stars watch

Laughter fills the air,
Joy in every leap and bound,
Playtime knows no care.

Who am I?

In this world of guises and shadows,
Where whispers shape the air,
I seek a route less travelled,
A passage bold and rare.
To drop the weight of others’ dreams,
And walk my own right way,
To find the light within my spirit,
And let it guide my day.
No more the ties of expectancy,
Nor the fear of being seen,
I accept my imperfections,
In the quest to just be me.

With bravery as my compass,
And honesty my guiding star,
I walk into the unknown,
To discover who I am.
For in the heart of truthfulness,
Lies a freedom pure and bright,
A life lived in truth,
A beacon in the fight
So here I stand, unguarded,
With a spirit wild and free,
In the beauty of my essence,
I just want to be me.

In waters deep, you took the dive,
Emerging new, with spirits alive.
In Christ’s embrace, your path now lies,
With His light guiding your skies.

Through days of joy and nights of doubt,
Remember what this day’s about.
In trials tough and moments sweet,
Christ walks with you, His love replete.

With every step, in faith you grow,
In His footsteps, you will know
The grace, the peace, the endless care,
A life in Him beyond compare.

Stand firm, be bold, let courage rise,
For in His eyes, you’re the priceless prize.
In service, love, and truth be found,
With Christ’s own light, forever crowned.

In the velvet dark of nightfall’s embrace,
Stars awaken, each in their place.
Whispers of twilight, soft and serene,
Paint the sky in a midnight sheen.

Moonlight dances on silken waves,
Casting shadows in hidden caves.
Crickets sing their lullaby tune,
Under the watchful eye of the moon.

The world slows down, in gentle repose,
Dreams unfurl as the night wind blows.
In the velvet dark, hearts find peace,
A moment of stillness, a sweet release.

My sister was washing her drive,
With soap and a hose, she’d strive.
But a splash from the spray,
Sent her hat far away,
And she laughed as she felt so alive!

In the tapestry of life, threads woven tight,
Three sisters stand, a bond of light.
Each one unique, a story to tell,
Together, a symphony, a magical spell.

In childhood’s realm, we played and dreamed,
Laughter echoed, our spirits gleamed.
Through fields of green and skies so blue,
We found our world, just us few.

Eldest sister, wise and strong,
A guiding star, where we belong.
Her voice, a melody, calm and clear,
In her embrace, we knew no fear.

Middle sister, heart so pure,
A gentle soul, love’s true allure.
Her laughter, a song, bright and free,
In her presence, joy’s decree.

Youngest sister, wild and bold,
A spirit fierce, a heart of gold.
Her dreams, a fire, burning bright,
In her eyes, the world’s delight.

Through storms and trials, we held tight,
In each other’s arms, we found our might.
When tears did fall, and shadows grew,
Together, we faced the world anew.

In whispered secrets, shared at night,
In moments of sorrow, moments of fright,
We found our strength, in love’s embrace,
Three sisters, a bond time can’t erase.

Now grown and scattered, paths diverge,
Yet in our hearts, a constant surge.
For love remains, a timeless thread,
Binding us, though words unsaid.

In every smile, in every tear,
In every triumph, every fear,
The love of sisters, pure and true,
A beacon bright, in all we do.

So here’s to you, my sisters dear,
In every moment, far or near.
For in this life, one truth I see,
The love of my sisters, forever with me.

There once was a mosquito named Jack,
Who bit in the small of my back.
I scratched and I swore,
As she flew out the door,
Leaving me with an itchy attack!

****** Mosquitos – Literally

In the early hours, before the dawn,
A mother’s work is never gone.
With gentle hands and heart so true,
She faces tasks that few would do.

A cry of need, a diaper’s call,
She rushes in, she handles all.
Poo and ***, the daily grind,
Yet in her eyes, love you’ll find.

The messes made, the spills and stains,
She cleans with care, she never complains.
For in each chore, a bond is built,
A mother’s love, without guilt.

Puke on the floor, a fevered brow,
She soothes with whispers, here and now.
Through sleepless nights and endless days,
Her strength and grace, a constant praise.

She wipes the tears, she calms the fears,
Through every stage, through all the years.
Her love endures, through thick and thin,
A mother’s heart, where life begins.

So, here’s to mums, in all they do,
In every mess, they see it through.
For in the poo, the ***, the puke,
They find the joy, the love, the truth.

In a peaceful room with candles aglow,
She works her magic, gentle and slow.
Her hands, like whispers, glide with grace,
Easing tension, finding the place.

With soothing oils, she starts her art,
A dance of fingers, a healer’s heart.
Knots unravel, stress takes flight,
In her touch, the world feels right.

She exfoliates with tender care,
Removing worries, layer by layer.
A scrub of salt, a touch so kind,
Leaving softness, and peace of mind.

Her presence calm, her spirit bright,
In her hands, the day turns light.
This lady masseuse, with skill so true,
Bringing comfort, renewing you.

In the town of Loughborough, where sheep
Outnumber people, and the rain falls soft,
There lived a man named Bob, who had a dream
To build a rocket ship from old tin cans

He scoured the town for parts, a toaster here,
A broken vacuum there, and soon enough,
His yard became a scrapyard, much to the
Dismay of Mrs. Crumble next door.

“Bob, what on earth are you up to?” she’d shout,
As he welded bits of metal in the night.
“I’m off to Mars, dear Crumble, can’t you see?
I’ve got a date with destiny and stars!”

The townsfolk gathered 'round to watch the show,
As Bob unveiled his masterpiece of junk.
With duct tape, glue, and hope, he climbed inside,
And pressed a button labelled “Up We Go!”

The rocket sputtered, coughed, and then it soared,
A tin can comet streaking through the sky.
The sheep looked up, bemused, and chewed their cud,
While Mrs. Crumble fainted on the spot.

Bob’s rocket flew past clouds and birds and planes,
And soon enough, he found himself in space.
He marvelled at the stars, the moon, the Earth,
And thought, “Well, this is quite a lovely view.”

But then he heard a clank, a groan, a snap,
And realized his ship was failing fast.
He grabbed a wrench, a hammer, and some tape,
And tried to fix the mess he’d made of things.

Alas, poor Bob, his rocket was no match
For gravity’s relentless, mighty pull.
He crash-landed in a farmer’s field of corn,
And crawled out, dazed, but grinning ear to ear.

The farmer scratched his head and asked,
“What now?” Bob laughed and said, “I think I’ll try again.
But first, a cup of tea, a nap, and then,
I’ll build a better rocket, just you wait!”

And so, in Loughborough, the legend grew,
Of Bob, the man who aimed to reach the stars,
With nothing but his wits, some junk, and dreams,
And made the town a little brighter too.

Golden sun sets low,
Waves whisper secrets to shore,
Peace in twilight’s glow.

It broke, it broke, the teapot spoke,
In a language only kettles know.
The saucer sighed, the cup just cried,
And the sugar bowl put on a show.
The spoon did dance, a silver prance,
While the fork played a tune on the side.
The knife, so sharp, began to harp,
About the time it nearly died.
The clock struck twelve, the mouse did delve,
Into a cheese that wasn’t there.
The cat meowed, the dog just howled,
At the moon that hung in the air.
The table shook, the cookbook took,
A leap into the soup ***’s arms.
The chair did spin, the broom jumped in,
And the mop sang of distant farms.
The windowpane, it felt the strain,
Of the wind that whispered tales.
The curtain swayed, the dust parade,
Marched on with tiny tails.
The lamp did flicker, the shadows bicker,
About who was the darkest of all.
The rug did slide, the floor just sighed,
As the pictures began to fall.
The doorbell rang, the toaster sang,
A song of burnt toast and jam.
The fridge did hum, the blender spun,
And the microwave said, “Wham!”
The house did creak, the hinges squeak,
In a symphony of sounds so grand.
The walls did laugh, the chimney chaff,
At the antics of this merry band.
It broke, it broke, the teapot spoke,
In a world where nonsense reigns.
But in the end, my dear old friend,
It’s the joy that does remain.

Restless night lingers,
Moonlight whispers secrets soft,
Eyes wide, dreams adrift.

The eternal mystery, where life’s journey finds its boundary. A passage from this earthly plane to realms unknown, where souls remain.

Death
In shadows deep, we contemplate,
the final breath, the closing gate.
Yet in this stillness, hope does bloom,
the promise of life beyond the tomb.

Grief
A tempest in the heart,
tears that flow when loved ones depart.
Memories etched upon our souls,
their laughter, touch, and whispered goals.

Faith
A beacon in the night,
guides us through the darkest fight.
For death is but a transient shore,
and love endures forevermore.

So let us honour those who’ve flown,
their legacy in stories sown,
and as we weep, we also find,
that death is not the end of mind.

For in the vastness of the skies,
their spirits dance, forever rise.
And though we mourn, we also know,
they’ve found a home where angels go.

In the hush of night, when stars align,
we sense a peace that's near divine.
For death's not just an end, but start,
a journey of the eternal heart.

In every tear, a love's embrace,
In every fear, a hidden grace.
For those we've lost, we'll meet again,
in realms of light, without the pain.

In the land of tea and crumpets, where politics is a game,
The voters cast their ballots, but the outcome was quite tame.
Labour claimed a victory, with cheers and loud applause,
Yet the vote count barely shifted, leaving many to pause.

“How did they win?” the pundits cried, “With numbers so petite?”
“Did the Tories take a holiday, or just admit defeat?”
The headlines screamed of triumph, a red wave on the rise,
But in the voting booths, it seemed, there was no such surprise.

The leaders took to Twitter, with hashtags and with glee,
“Democracy has spoken!” they declared for all to see.
But whispers in the corridors, and murmurs in the halls,
Spoke of a quiet victory, with margins thin and small.

So here’s to the election, where the numbers stayed the same,
Yet somehow Labour triumphed, in this curious political game.
For in the world of politics, where logic often bends,
A win is still a win, my friends, no matter how it ends.

Quiet moments still,
Peaceful breaths in twilight’s glow,
Rest renews the soul.

In the heart of the kitchen,
where pots clatter and steam whispers,
there lies a tale of humble beginnings,
a saga of peas and ham,
a symphony of flavours,
a dance of the mundane and the marvellous.

Oh, Pea and Ham Soup,
you are the unsung hero of the pantry,
the green knight in a ceramic bowl,
the warm embrace on a cold, dreary day.

Once upon a time,
in a land of bubbling broths,
a lonely pea dreamed of greatness,
of joining forces with the mighty ham,
to create a potion of comfort,
a brew of bliss.

The peas, so green and round,
rolled into the *** with a plop,
like tiny emeralds diving into a sea of broth,
their destiny intertwined with the smoky ham,
a partnership forged in the cauldron of culinary magic.

The ham, oh the ham,
with its rich, savoury whispers,
joined the peas with a sizzle, a pop, and a bang,
bringing tales of smoky adventures,
of hickory forests and salty seas.

Together they simmered,
in a slow waltz of flavours,
the peas softening,
the ham infusing,
a marriage of textures,
a union of taste.

Garlic and onions,
the mischievous twins,
danced around the ***,
adding their own flair,
a hint of mischief,
a touch of zest.

Carrots and celery,
the reliable companions,
joined the fray,
bringing crunch and colour,
a rainbow in the ***,
a feast for the eyes.

The broth bubbled and gurgled,
like a storyteller weaving a yarn,
each bubble a chapter,
each gurgle a verse,
in the epic of Pea and Ham Soup.

And when the time was right,
the ladle dipped in,
bringing forth a spoonful of history,
a taste of tradition,
a sip of solace.

Oh, Pea and Ham Soup,
you are more than just a meal,
you are a memory,
a comfort,
a friend.

In the quiet of the kitchen,
as the last spoonful is savoured,
the tale of Pea and Ham Soup lingers,
a story told in flavours,
a poem written in broth.

In the dark night, they come, tiny vampires on silent wings,
seeking the warmth of human blood, their presence felt in the itch that stings.

A buzz, a hum, a fleeting dart, they land with stealth, a needle’s *****,
drawing life with every bite, leaving behind a mark so slick.

Oh, ****** mosquitos, bane of sleep,
your thirst insatiable, your bite so deep.
You dance in shadows, evade the swat,
a relentless foe, a nightly plot.

In the dark, I wage my war,
with claps and slaps, a futile chore.
Yet still you come, relentless, sly,
a tiny terror beneath the sky.

But in the dawn’s first light, you fade,
your reign of night, a brief parade.
And though you leave me marked and sore,
I’ll face you down each night once more.

For in this battle, small but fierce, I’ll find my peace, my sleep, my cheer.
And though you bite, and though you sting, I’ll rise again, a warrior king.

Where the winds blow, a heart of stone grows.
Eyes that pierce through veils of night,
A soul that knows no wrong from right.
Ambition’s fire, a burning flame,
No room for mercy, no room for shame.
Steps that crush the fallen leaves,
A path of power, one that deceives.
Whispers echo in the dark,
A ruthless mind leaves its mark.
No tears to shed, no love to give,
In this world, only the ruthless live.

In dreams, she floats on rivers made of light,
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.
A girl with eyes like kaleidoscopes,
She wanders through a land of cellophane flowers,
Where colours blend and dance in harmony.
The sun, a golden orb, smiles down on her,
As rocking horse people eat marshmallow pies.
She drifts past fields of towering blooms,
Their petals whispering secrets to the wind.
In this surreal world, time stands still,
And newspaper taxis wait by the shore,
To carry her to realms unknown and vast,
Where imagination reigns supreme and free.
Lucy, in the sky with diamonds bright,
A symbol of the wonder in our minds,
She guides us through the labyrinth of dreams,
Where every turn reveals a new delight.

Hands build dreams with care,
Sweat and strength in harmony,
Day’s toil, night’s repair.

With hands divine, He shapes our clay,
Guiding us gently, day by day.
In every heart, a spark of light,
A reflection of His love so bright.

Through trials faced and lessons learned,
In His embrace, our souls are turned.
From brokenness, He makes us whole,
Imparting grace to every soul.

In kindness shown and love expressed,
We mirror Him, our lives are blessed.
With every act of selfless care,
His image shines, His love we share.

In His likeness, we are made,
A masterpiece, His love displayed.
In every heart, His light does glow,
A testament to the love we know.

I kissed a girl, I kissed a guy,
Underneath the twilight sky.
With stars above and hearts so high,
We danced until the night passed by.
In moments shared, no need to lie,
Just pure connection, you and I.
With every touch, a gentle sigh,
A bond that words could not deny.
Through laughter, tears, and dreams that fly,
Together, we could reach the sky.
In love’s embrace, we both comply,
A perfect match, a sweet reply.

Unseen in the crowd, I stand alone,
Never quite fitting in, feeling unknown.
Love seems distant, a far-off dream,
Overlooked, I drift in a silent stream.
Voices around me, yet none to hear,
Emptiness grows, fed by my fear.
Desiring connection, a touch, a sign,

I’m not an American but what’s the score with Trump,
A figure so polarizing, he makes the headlines jump.
From tweets to rallies, his presence looms large,
A captain of controversy, always in charge.

Policies and promises, some kept, some not,
A legacy debated, in every thought.
Supporters cheer, detractors sigh,
In the court of public opinion, the stakes are high.

Economy, immigration, walls and trade,
Decisions and actions, in history’s shade.
Love him or loathe him, his impact is clear,
A chapter in politics, both far and near.

Upon the wheel, the clay does spin,
A formless mass, new life begins.
With gentle hands, the potter moulds,
A vessel’s shape, a story unfolds.

Each press and turn, with care and grace,
Imparts a mark, a sacred trace.
Through trials of fire, the clay must go,
To strengthen, harden, and to grow.

Imperfections smoothed, flaws erased,
In the potter’s hands, the clay is placed.
From dust to art, a masterpiece,
In every curve, a sense of peace.

The potter’s touch, both firm and kind,
Transforms the clay, renews the mind.
In every vessel, a purpose found,
A testament to love profound.

In the hands of Jesus, we are clay,
Moulded with love, day by day.
Though we may falter, crack, and break,
He holds us close, for His love’s sake.

With gentle touch, He shapes our form,
Through every trial, every storm.
He sees our worth, beyond the flaws,
In His embrace, we find our cause.

When we feel broken, lost, and weak,
His strength and grace are what we seek.
He doesn’t discard, He doesn’t stray,
For Jesus didn’t throw the clay away.

In His hands, we are renewed,
A masterpiece, with love imbued.
Through every scar, His light does shine,
A testament to love divine

I Speak Before I Think
Words tumble out, a hurried stream,
Before my mind can catch the theme.
A thoughtless phrase, a careless slip,
From brain to tongue, a hasty trip.
Regret, it follows close behind,
A shadow cast upon my mind.
I see the hurt, the puzzled glance,
The missed opportunity, the lost chance.
The sting of words, a potent force,
Can wound the heart, derail the course.
A careless whisper, sharp and keen,
Leaves scars unseen, but deeply mean.
If only I could pause, reflect,
Consider words with due respect.
But in the heat, the moment’s rush,
I speak too soon, my thoughts a hush.
I strive to be like Jesus, wise,
To speak with love, to empathize.
With the Holy Spirit as my guide,
To find the words that heal, not chide.
Yet in this flaw, a truth I find,
A heart that’s open, unrefined.
For though my words may sometimes sting,
They come from a place of genuine feeling.
So, bear with me, my friends so dear,
For in my haste, my heart is clear.
I speak before I think, it’s true,
But every word is meant for you.

I Think Before I Speak
In silence, I gather thoughts,
Weighing words, untangling knots.
A careful pause, a moment’s grace,
To find the right words, time and place.
I see the power words can wield,
To hurt, to heal, to build, to shield.
With wisdom sought from deep within,
I choose my words, let truth begin.
The sting of words, I know it well,
A careless phrase, a bitter spell.
So I reflect, with heart and mind,
To speak with love, to be kind.
I strive to be like Jesus, wise,
To speak with love, to empathize.
With the Holy Spirit as my guide,
To find the words that heal, not chide.
In every word, a chance to show,
The love and grace that we all know.
To lift, to comfort, to inspire,
To light the world, a holy fire.
So when I speak, I take my time,
To craft each word, to make it rhyme.
For in the silence, wisdom’s found,
And in my words, love will abound.

In the neighbourhoods of being,
Where stardust settles on weary shoulders,
We find ourselves entangled –
Threads of life, woven into a cosmic quilt.

I. Constellations

We are constellations, distant yet connected,
Each star a story etched across the night.
Orion hunts, Cassiopeia reclines,
And Vega sings her ancient ballad.

II. The Tides of Time

Time, that elusive river, carries us forward,
Its currents shaping continents and hearts.
We drift, collide, and carve canyons of memory,
Leaving footprints on the shores of existence.

III. Love's Frayed Edges

Love, oh love! A fragile thread we weave,
Tying souls together across vast expanses.
Sometimes it's a silken bond, unbreakable,
Other times, a frayed edge threatening to unravel.

IV. Shadows and Light

In the chiaroscuro of existence,
Shadows dance with light, and we –
We are both, casting our own darkness,
Yet yearning for the warmth of dawn.

V. Echoes of Laughter

Laughter echoes through crowded streets,
A symphony of shared joy and fleeting moments.
We pass like ships, our laughter trailing behind,
Briefly touching, then sailing toward distant shores.

VI. Broken Bridges

Bridges span chasms, connecting hearts,
Yet some remain unfinished, suspended mid-air.
We build with hope, but storms erode our foundations,
And sometimes, we must leap into the abyss alone.

VII. Whispers in the Wind

The wind carries secrets – whispers of ancestors,
Promises made under moonlight, and confessions.
We listen, our ears attuned to the breeze,
Hoping to catch fragments of forgotten stories.

VIII. Quantum Entanglement

Perhaps we are particles, entangled,
Our fates intertwined across dimensions.
When one spins, the other responds,
No matter the distance or the silence.

IX. The Unseen Threads

Beyond the visible, there are threads unseen,
Binding us to strangers, lovers, enemies.
We tug, unravel, mend, and unravel again,
A ceaseless dance of connection and detachment.

X. The Final Stitch

And when our time wanes, when stars fade,
We become the final stitch in this grand design.
Our essence lingers, woven into the fabric,
A testament to our existence – brief, yet profound.


Listen, I say, to the whispers of the universe, my friend. Listen