What else could we do but pray to God?
How could I explain them the shivers that i fought?

Time and tide wait for none,
A truth so cruel,built with fun

What else could we do but accept our fate?
Will we be able to look back , when we, are finally late?

Slowly floating towards boundless, a place so dark
I wish i could end the act, without leaving behind a mark

A small little flower,that was bloomed, in an unknown place
Stared all day, towards the vast sky, for just a little trace

Staring towards the endless horizon , as if there was any life
Maybe it was waiting to shine like a meteorite

A universe so vast, countless galaxies,
Yet it thought, it was big , like an algea under the seas

Suddenly, the sky, began to shatter
The flower wished, if it could finish the letter

The eyes, began to open ,slowly with pains
A little boy found himself,  in a garden of gains

A little flower bloomed , just beside a drain
He saw it and thought he finally could, leave the train..

Dear Anagha,

In a crowd full of people who know you, who admire you, and who try to be seen by you, I’m the quiet one. I don’t stand out. I don’t shout. But I’m always there — silently watching, silently walking out, with a kind of affection that doesn’t need attention. Just kindness. Just presence.

You’re beautiful — not just because of how you look, but because of how simple and genuine you are. That’s what draws me in. Your simplicity is rare, and it makes everything about you feel so real and honest.

Sometimes, I find your thoughts drifting into mine. It's strange, how even without knowing everything about you, I feel connected to the way you move, speak, think. I feel like I’m the one quietly hidden behind your eyes — unnoticed, but always there.
I see your eyes, it is black at night, brown at the presence of sunlight, and when I look into it, I only see myself.

Your voice… the first time I heard it, it stayed with me. It’s not just beautiful — it’s powerful, Like Haven in the air. And every time I see you, I find myself falling for you again. I can’t help it.

I try to make you laugh. Maybe it’s just my way of feeling a little closer to you, of hoping you’ll see me. Hoping, maybe, you’ll smile because of me. Thinking, if you smile, you fall for me, but whenever you smile, I am the one how fallen twice as hard as I find.

You might never know all of this. But I just wanted you to know that somewhere in the crowd, there’s someone who sees you differently. Quietly. Completely.

The stars above seem to know,
The secret words I dare not show.
Their light dances soft, pure, and true,
Echoing my silent, "I love you."

Yours Mayank,
Someone who cares more than you know.

So long, life seemed splendid & youth, held such a succulent scent;those mémoires survived the ages still - so on to say & stay beyondthe horizon of wisdom.

Regrets & remorse, as in the epitome of a living today, suffice sucha saddened sight of disbelief upon chapters which ceased toexist...along an algorithm, alleging a passé presumably a Passover- the moulding chapters of maturity & bringing about a change...acollapsed change

The light...this light of childhood happiness, faded so fast &frequently, a belief of betterment arose from frequencies of falsefantasies & fake freedom. Entity erased entirely, doom destroyedwhoever wrote destiny & nothingness built one hell of a void; whatwent wrong?!? Only living such a specific stage of existence once,once to yearn for a relapse of singular sacrificial returns to the oldways - devising delusions of detrimental eras where, Kings & Knights knew & prophesied all together like a miraculous Mage. Isthis how it's supposed to be? Has such a childhood crossed thefinish line already or, did we reach the end of the trail? Too many questions unanswered by these ambitions, ambitions whichexceeded our worth...

So long, before that end, hope retrieved what seemed splendid &youthful, as young as tonight's nature - a sky full of stars, with amoon...well...a moon to guide us home

~ A. Rose

We grow up in a world that breaks us,
then blames us for being broken.
Told to speak up—
then silenced when we do.

We were born into systems built on lies,
handed burdens with no blueprint,
and somehow expected to fix
what we didn’t create.

They call us lazy.
Say we’re disconnected.
Too soft.
Too loud.
Too online.
Too everything but enough.

But here’s what they miss—
We feel everything.
We think deeply.
We question what they accepted.
And we see through the noise they got used to.

They talk like we’ve failed before we’ve started.
But maybe we’re not the problem.
Maybe we’re the mirror.
And they don’t like the reflection.

We don’t want handouts.
We want to be heard.
We want room to grow,
not cages labeled “youth.”

We are not apathetic—
we’re exhausted.
We are not lost—
we’re searching for something real
in a world that keeps faking it.

So, listen.
Not with judgment,
but with intention.

Because we’re not just “the youth.”
We’re the pulse.
The pivot.
The possibility.

And whether they hear us or not—
we are speaking

What if everything we see ,is a shadow of truth.
And not truth itself,
What if the life we live - is not ours but someone else's.
What if the meal we like ,
Was theirs that wanted you to like .

In a space filled with opportunities,beauty and hope.
What if there was non ,
But intentions that doesn't belong to us ,
But all we must follow.

What if the clouds were not really clouds,
But distraction to the clear sky,
And maybe one that distracts stars from shinning through.

What if every smile was not a sign of happiness,
But pain .
What if every yes was a No ,

Perhaps,
We are living quietly,  
In the soft shadows  
Of a deeper truth.

Two souls sat on a worn-out park bench, the city's dim lights blurring into the soft darkness of the evening. One seemed to have found a cynical comfort in their solitude, while the other was still grasping for a different truth. The air between them was thick with unsaid words, a silent prelude to a conversation they both knew was inevitable.

“When you feel sad and lonely, who do you imagine to be lonely with?”

- “Nobody, loneliness for me was once a pain, now I rather find comfort in it.”

“What if everyone left you behind what would you do then?”

- “Well not everyone will leave me behind silly I’ll have my shadow with me.”

“Isn’t that sad?”

- “It is for those who live in delusion, but in reality, when you take your last breath, you do it alone .”

“What do you do when you’re frustrated sad and hurt?”

- “I cry.“

“Is that how you express your emotions and feelings?“

- “No.”

“Then?”

- “ I cry, because after I’m done, people assume I’ve cheered up. If I don’t cry, they will continue to ask questions like “are you okay?”. Even when we both know that I’m not, they’ll still force me to answer reality, when I’m dying to escape it.”