Asuka

Asuka Mar 31

A sheep unshorn, a misfit star,
too wild for wool, too sharp for flocks.
It walked alone where twilight wept,
where mountaintops kissed silver clocks.

Judgment struck like feathered arrows,
but wounds grew wings and took to flight.
"I’ll carve my throne from nameless echoes,
build my own laws beneath the night."

Yet beauty whispered, laced with teeth,
a velvet snarl in hunger’s guise.
The wolves arrived—moonlit beasts,
with gleaming pearls of red-stained lies.

Beauty isn’t soft, nor kind, nor fair,
It’s a rare flame, wild in the air.
A mirage that shifts, a whispered disguise,
Wrapped in illusion, unseen to the eyes.

The sheep stood firm where darkness danced,
while others cursed the sky’s despair.
Was beauty love or sharpened fangs?
A question lost to midnight air.

Bound by fate or freed by choice,
it laughed—"I’ll fall, but not in fear."
For even flight can lead to chains,
and even wolves can disappear.

This poem explores the journey of a rebellious soul,an outcast sheep,who refuses to conform. While others fear the darkness, it faces the
wolves, uncovering the truth that beauty is not just light; it is also fierce, deceptive, and untamed. In the end, it chooses to embrace the unknown rather than run from it, questioning the very nature of beauty and the night itself.
It became part of the night, part of the unknown, neither fully sheep nor wolf but something beyond,something that understood both the beauty and the danger of the world. It didn’t conform, didn’t break,it simply became.

Is beauty a gift or a disguise? A blessing or a trap? Tell me,what does beauty mean to you?

#poetry #spokenword #literarypoetry #modernpoetry #rebelsoul #beautyredefined #darkmetaphors #freedom

Asuka Mar 30

Breathing smoke

Breathing smoke of silent cries,
Under moonlit, ashen skies.
Dreams dissolve in curling mist,
Lost in echoes, never kissed.

Fingers trace the fading light,
Chasing warmth in endless night.
Cinders dance where whispers fade,
Shadows hum the songs we made.

Breathing smoke of days once bright,
Drifting far beyond my sight.
Ashes settle, soft and slow,
In the silence, embers glow.

Asuka Mar 30

The Orphaned Roots Of A Borrowed Sky

Breathing smog of tears, the weight of air,
Each sigh dissolves into whispered despair.
The earth is gilded in golden light,
Yet I tread through shadows, out of sight.

The flowers bloom in whispered grace,
Yet roots embrace an empty space.
They drink the rain, they kiss the sky,
But deep below, they ache, they sigh.

The wind hums songs to bending trees,
How soft its voice, how sweet its ease.
Even the stars lean close at night,
While I reach for ghosts in borrowed light.

I dreamed of hands to hold my own,
A voice that called this heart back home.
But fate unraveled thread by thread,
And love was silence left unsaid.

Some hearts are lanterns, some are stone,
Some find warmth, and some die alone.
And though my roots still touch the sky,
The echoes whisper—why, oh why?

Asuka Mar 30

I Like You! Can I Just Say It?

I like you—there, I said it now.
No fancy lines, no practiced vow.
Your voice? A song that lingers long.
Your smile? A spark that feels so strong.

It feels unreal, a little wild,
Like a daydream drawn by a love-struck child.
But here we stand, just you and me,
No need for grand, just let it be.

The flowers in my heart all know,
Whenever you’re near, they start to grow.
The world is loud, the crowd's a blur,
Yet my eyes find only her... you.

Let’s stay a while—no rush, no race,
Just soft night air and time to waste.
The terrace glows, the sun turns red,
Blushing like the words unsaid.

So here I am, no games, no clue—
Just hoping maybe... you like me too?

XOXO

#love

Asuka Mar 30

Whispers Of The Forsaken Forest

The sky wears my grief in a veil of storm clouds,
Each thunderclap an elegy, each lightning bolt a verdict.
Even if you wash away the crimson stains,
The echoes of your sins will never fade.

Why does sorrow weave my fate into thorn-laden tapestries?
Did my cries kiss your ears, or did you weave silence as a shield?
You shattered me into constellations of agony,
Each droplet a relic of your unatoned sins.

The valleys yawn like ancient wounds,
Rivers of rubies spill through their veins,
While mountains rise as merciless titans,
Laughing at my feeble hands that cannot scale their spines.

The fire you kindled consumed more than my flesh—
Only ashes remain, whispers of a tragedy embalmed in wind.
Yet my soul lingers, a wraith woven from anguish,
Drifting between dusk and dawn, pleading for reckoning.

Lost in the labyrinth of wailing willows, I hunger for justice,
Yet solitude devours me like a specter feasting on the guilty.
You were the beast cloaked in borrowed skin,
A shadow masquerading as light—could you not be human for a breath?

Justice rides the chariot of time, relentless as the tide.
Soon, the wind shall carry the taste of your own venom,
And the stars will script your downfall in the language of the gods.

#pain #betrayal #poeticjustice #metaphorical #symbolism #surviv

Asuka Mar 29

Whispers of the Aged Bench

The wind caresses the teakwood throne,
Fingers of air trace its timeworn tone.
A vessel of echoes, silent and grand,
Holding the weight of a transient land.

Amber leaves pirouette in a gilded trance,
Draped in autumn’s fleeting dance.
Balletic whispers, ephemeral grace,
Spinning in nature’s golden embrace.

Beside it, an ancient oak confides,
Murmuring secrets the past belies.
Once adorned in a painter’s hue,
Now cloaked in time’s celestial dew.

Generations sought its patient hold—
Lovers entwined, their stories scrolled.
Children’s laughter, elders’ sighs,
Tears dissolving ‘neath somber skies.

The sun dissolves in a molten stream,
Spilling gold where shadows dream.
Draping dusk in a honeyed glow,
As twilight hums in tones so low.

A lone bird lilts a wistful tune,
Gilded by the argent moon.
Each note, a ripple in midnight’s tide,
Serenading time as it turns aside.

I gaze upon it, lost in thought,
A relic of moments destiny wrought.
One day, like it, I too shall be,
A whisper in time, untamed, yet free.

The wind still lingers, cool and wise,
Tracing tales where memory lies.
For time does not wrinkle, nor fade nor break,
It merely gilds all it dares to take—
A bench, a soul, an era’s page,
Crowned in silence, robed in vintage sage.

Edited version

Asuka Mar 29

Is This the End?

Is this the end—
the final wilt of a flower that never bloomed?
My name fades like ink
washed away by merciless rain,
my dreams crumble
like abandoned sandcastles at dusk.

Where is the wildfire
that once roared inside me?
Now I am a candle,
melting without a flame,
a shadow chasing a sun
that never rises for me.

What is the point of pain
if it never runs dry?
It stretches like an endless ocean,
each wave heavier than the last,
dragging me deeper—
where light cannot reach.

I walk a road no one else takes,
where streetlights are ghosts,
where even the wind forgets to whisper.
The river beneath the bridge writhes,
never still, never calm,
just like me.

God, was it too much to ask
Wished for some hurdles to lessen,
But even the roadside grass
Knows no mercy under the weight of passing feet

I never wanted to beg,
but mercy tastes sweet
when you are starving.
Still, no hand reaches out,
no voice calls my name.

I tried to belong,
but I am the night sky—
swallowing all color,
never reflecting back the light.

Let me breathe—
but the air is an ocean,
and I am drowning in silence.

Want someone to skip a beat of my heart
Want my soul to rest without vanishing?
Want someone to notice—before I am gone?
God, is it really too much to ask?

Some souls don't scream for help; they whisper. Will you listen before the silence takes them?

#pain #loneliness #unheardcries #darkpoetry #emotionalwounds #lostsoul #deepthoughts #mentalstruggles #unnoticedpain #poetrythathurts