The game which either ends with a historic comeback,
Or a bittersweet 'almost'.
How can someone not fall for this game?
Where every session begins with a thrill,
Every ball has a story to tell.
Where legacy is born, the moment someone steps on the field.
Well pressure rises every time
the bowler takes the run-up looking straight into the eyes.
When the rivalry is born
every time a legend faces a legend.
Where every moment feels worth witnessing
and a single ball can shift it all.
How can someone not love a game which
hooks you for five days straight?
You can't predict a thing until the last ball is bowled.
It's brutal. It's beautiful.
It's unlucky. It's fair
It's harsh. It's poetic.
It's THE TEST.
The longest format. The deepest feeling.

-

SWIM TOWARDS THE LIGHT

I'm floating in the fathomless abyss
Of what I think life should be.
There's light above and dark below,
Both wishing to consume me.

My limbs are tired, and my lungs burn.
My heart is ready to combust.
I close my eyes to quiet my mind,
For my inner voice is one I need to learn to trust.

I look below to the devouring dark
And sense how easy it will be
To allow myself to sink into my past mistakes
And give in to this growing disease.

But the light above continues to shine,
Glittering with reassurance,
That if I swim on with aching limbs,
I'll learn to know my own endurance.

My darkened past continues to call like a siren's hymn,
Beckoning me to give in,
But the light has become a beacon for me,
To not give in to all of my sins.

I swim on with screaming muscles,
To break the surface of my doubt,
With the hope that continues to carry me,
That my future is one to be excited about.

-

THE FOREST IN MY MIND


I used to find myself
in the quiet of solitude,
believing that being alone
was better than being with others—
that loneliness was a comfort,
A shield against the world.

But I never saw it then—
how I was only missing
the warmth of connection,
the simple spark of youth.
The things I once took
for granted
now faded in distant echoes.

Time has a way of teaching—
you can't always run,
can't hide from what's inside.
Life, in its essence, is simple—
It's we who weave the complexity.

I've grown a forest in my mind,
a thousand tangled thoughts,
each one a branch, a root,
reaching for something
I'm still learning to understand.

-

I'm the passionate one.
I feel everything so deeply.

People have told me to tone it down,
to not care so much, and to let things go.
For a while, I tried.

But the truth is, I can't stop caring.
I'm the one who cries during movies,
gets goosebumps over a sunrise,
and pours my heart into everything I do.

I've learned that my sensitivity isn't a weakness.
It's the reason I'm so passionate.
It's why I can see beauty in the smallest things,
why I fight for the people and causes I care about,
and why I love so fiercely.

Being sensitive makes me alive.
And yes, sometimes it feels vulnerable to care
so deeply, but I wouldn't trade it for anything.

I'm the passionate one,
and I'm finally okay with that.


#THE_PASSIONATE_ONE

-

I think I wore the idea of you out—
picked it apart, thread by thread,
over moments you forgot as they happened.

I have this habit—
turning small glances into galaxies,
your silence into meaning.
Wanting you more than you ever asked to be wanted.

You never cared. Maybe you couldn't.
But I kept building you anyway—
out of fragments, illusions,
a version of you that never really breathed.

Magic boy, darling ghost,
sweet fiction I dressed in hope.
Not needed anymore.

So I'm letting go.
Not of you—
but of the echo I kept chasing.

The dream I got attached to,
not the person who stood there,
barely present.

I'm done mourning the story I wrote.
I'm killing the idea of you.

-

WHISPERS WITH THE MOON🌙


The moon meets me at midnight,
when I'm alone with the sky,
and the strains of the day
fall away,
as she kisses my troubles goodbye;

this is a temporary reprieve,
for I'm not sure I'll ever shed
these woes,
yet beneath her porcelain gaze,
I feel my heart rate begin to slow;

as the silence floods my senses,
and a soft breeze rustles my hair,
I lost myself to constellations,
and embrace the need to repair;

yet I am still a whirlwind of sins,
and from this shame,
will I ever be free?
only when the night falls,
for the moon sees the best in me.

-

As we step into the New Year,

I wish for you a path bathed in golden light,
Love in your heart, and hope in your eyes.
May peace whisper softly to your soul,
And kindness guide every step you take.

With each new dawn,
May you walk forward with grace,
Carrying gratitude for lessons learned,
And treasuring memories gathered along the way.

May your heart remain open
To the beauty and wonders of the world,
And may each moment draw you closer
To the person you are destined to be.

May your friendships bloom like springtime flowers,
Bursting with life; they light up your world.
May your heart overflow
With a love that is so boundless and true.

I wish for you a year that sparkles like stars in the night,
Brimming with love, peace, hope, and endless joy.
And I wish you these blessings,
Not only for this New Year, but always.

-

Restoration & Renewal

As this year wraps up and a new one gets ready to
begin, I hope you take a moment to slow down and
think about everything this year has been. I hope you
realize how much you've grown, the wins you've had,
and all the lessons you've picked up along the way.

I hope you find the courage to let go of mistakes
and forgive yourself for the things you wish you had
done differently. If things felt confusing or messy at
times, trust that it'll start to make sense soon.

And if guilt tries to creep in like maybe you
didn't do enough or weren't enough to let it go.
You are not broken — you're being restored.

Most of all, I hope you walk into this new year
knowing you're not starting over you're building
on all the strength, faith, and courage that brought
you this far. You're proof that growth comes even
through the hardest seasons. You are made whole!

-

"Pocketfuls of peace" (2)

For now, don't paint a smile
Upon your teary, tired face.
Instead, find quiet moments
Where this season gives you space.

And recognize that songs
And decorations cannot hide
The flurry of emotions
Overwhelming you inside.

Yes, find those little moments
Where the lights don't feel so bright,
Where you don't have to keep pretending
Just to be polite.

Where you can breathe in peacefully,
Away from all the noise,
Away from expectation
That you're full of festive joys.

'Cause when the day is over,
And the lights are taken down,
When it's another year
Before next Christmas rolls around,

Yes, when the joy is fading,
And the merriment has ceased,
You'll be so very grateful for
Those pocketfuls of peace.

-

"Pocketfuls of Peace"

This Christmas...
You don't have to be full of joy,
All merry and all bright.
You don't have to force festive cheer,
If you don't feel alright.

No, you're not obligated
To be jovial and jolly,
To string the lights and sing the songs,
Or deck the halls with holly.

Perhaps you're missing someone,
And perhaps they miss you too.
Perhaps you're feeling burdened
By how much you have to do.

Perhaps the bleak midwinter
Leaves you feeling rather cold.
Perhaps it's hard to drive
December's darkness from your soul.

Perhaps you'd rather hibernate,
Let Christmas pass you by.
But remember: it's not long 'til you
Can bid this year goodbye.

cont'd~

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