Beneath the moon’s unspoken tongue,
silence burns.
Two rivers running close, distant.
We touch without touch, threads frayed by
words choked, an orchard heavy with void.
Time clasps us parallely, not crossing, a
melody split into longing.
The stars we named ache from forgetting,
their whispered light tied to our sorrow.
Still, your shadow hums in my own.
Oh and I never touched the trembling flame,
its warmth a whisper, never mine.
Hope slept, fragile, thin as mist,
a secret kept beneath closed skies.
Quietly it burned, against the void,
a glass cocoon, a muted hymn.
Dreams I dared not ever cradle,
yet bore their weight within my chest.
Grief blooms not loud, but shadowed, slow,
it breathes between the hollow hours.
For what was never born to light,
still aches, as though it could have sung.-
Darling, if pain becomes your breath,
Let it cascade like summer rain.
Carve elegance from every ache,
Wear sorrow’s glow upon your face.
Beneath the burdened moon, you shine,
Each tear a pearl of liquid fire.
Your silence hums a sonorous song.
If storms must crown your tender head,
Walk stately through the darkest flame.
Oh, beauty is the hymn of breaking,
Its hum draped across your aching skin.
Even ruin flutters in gold-lit rhythm,
See how stars wear loss like silk too,
Each fracture a shine, a mantra, divine.-
You're just a discarded remainder of a dream,
Fading softly away like a whispering stream.-
Wounds fade slowly, like evening light.
Pain softens, folding into quiet skies.
Feelings whispered once, settle like dust.
Perspective blooms, a patient olive tree.
Time kneels, mending us in its shadow.-
Some things, no matter
how desperately you try to save them,
are fated to not survive the wreckage.-
Growing up feels like a paradox.
With each day passing by, we become better and new but also many moments that shaped us are left behind unintentionally.
Now various responsibilities hold each of us so tightly that we long for our childhood which was comparatively better altogether or atleast in some aspects.
I'm trying not to be a cynic even though each day the temptation grows.
I don't know if the world has abandoned its hues or is it just me being unable to see everything as vividly as before.
-
Each embrace a clock of tired despair,
Echoes of loss pull through my hair.
Your voice, a flood’s unyielding tide.
And here I stand, in your arms,
Inviting collapse to reach my heart.-
Beneath the pallid moon,
A castle looms in deep shadows.
In moonlit halls, as midnight's silence calls,
A symphony of death is sweetly spun.
High on the evocative aroma of crimson roses,
In a velvet cloak, he leads the dance of death.
Each step a tale, each turn a heart's implore,
The echo of his steps in silence thrills the crumbling stones,
Eternal chaconne, he dances with vanity.
His eyes, two burning coals in darkened halls,
And fangs that gleam against the moonlight,
He revels in the beautiful lure of the curse bestowed upon him,
A moment where yearning and death collide, marked by shadowed grace,
Because darkness weaves what light could never.
Eternal chaconne, he dances with acquiescence.
He made a home out of this darkness and wynorrific ruination,
And his heart, became a shrouded void, with longing unfulfilled.
-
Detached from it all, I find solace here,
In quiet moments, where feelings retreat.
No highs to chase, no lows to fear or succumb,
Just a quiet space where peace might begin.
The edges of pain soften and blur,
Emotions muted, distant, like echoes in mist.
No need to engage, no need to defer,
To the tumultuous dance of joy or the
clenched-fist twist.
No heartache's sting, no tears to be shed,
Just a gentle hush, a muted sigh.
A hesitant pause, a temporary death.
Unburdened by sorrow, by joy's sweet demand,
I drift, untethered, upon this calm strand.
In this quiet cocoon, where shadows blur,
I linger, weightless, a feather's soft whir.
-