No soul awakens from shallow dreams.
It takes the storm, the blinding rain,
To carve the heart from grief and pain.
Each loss a weight, a silent stone,
Each love a light, though dimly shown.
Yet through the darkness, strength is born,
A soul remade, though bruised and torn.
What is the path without its thorns?
A barren field where nothing mourns.
What is the heart that knows no ache?
A fragile shell that dares not break.
The cliffs may call, the seas may rise,
The stars may dim in shadowed skies.
Yet still we stand, though bent and scarred,
For life’s true gift is won through hard.
I lost my loves, I lost my ground,
Yet found myself where loss abounds.
For honour blooms from what we bear,
And failing teaches how to care.
To fall is human, yet to rise—
That is where all true glory lies.
For what is life without the fight,
Without the darkness to birth the light?
The journey bends, the edges fray,
But courage leads the heart away—
Away from void, from hollow strife,
To face the fire, and call it life.
“Dear Diary,
Hundreds of pages by classical writers—Turgenev, Zola, Dumas, Tolstoy, Bradbury, and countless others—have offered me wisdom, yet no clear decisions. Thousands of experiences weigh on me, yet the answers remain veiled. I need to meditate, to let my mind find its quiet. For in the stillness, the mind whispers its loudest truths. Sometimes, silence is the only answer.”
Thoughts creaked beneath the shadowed glow,
A frozen tear began to flow.
The cricket’s tune, both sharp and frail,
Wove threads of sorrow through the veil.
The weary sky, a solemn shroud,
Held secrets whispered soft, yet loud.
Destiny lingered in quiet guise,
In midnight’s hush, where silence lies.
A tempest churned within the soul,
Its surging tide beyond control.
It swept through memories, love, and pain,
And left behind its quiet stain.
The moon, a sentinel of dreams,
Hung low to catch the heart’s extremes.
Its light, though faint, revealed the way,
Through tangled thoughts and fleeting day.
For in the night, when all seems still,
The mind resounds, its voice will fill
The empty spaces we once fled,
And truths arise where silence led.
“You are different, as I am—blue, green, deep, light, shining, strong… but never wrong, ocean. My soul is the ocean. And only with you, with your fierce winds and boundless power, do I feel calm. The sea holds confessions no land can bear. It whispers truths, carries burdens, and drowns regrets.”