I do not write I detonate. Ink is my gunpowder, paper my battlefield, silence my sworn enemy. Every verse is a scar, every line a rebellion, every word a blade sharpened by pain. I bleed, but I do not break. I bend, but I do not bow. I fall, but I rise louder. Tenderness is m...Read more
I do not write I bleed eternity into paper. My pen is a blade, and every verse is a wound that refuses to heal. Silence fears me, for I carve thunder into its bones. I am the poet who makes absence scream, who burns emptiness into meaning. My ink is rebellion, my stanza a battlef...Read more
Why did we cross paths? Why does fate bring us together if our destinies weren't meant to align? Why does it heal my wounds if it was going to destroy me completely? Why did this twist of fate leave me with so little? Why does that fleeting smile bring an endless flood of tears within? Why does the ...Read more
In the quiet corners of my broken heart you once heard the aching melodies, But now, loneliness surrounds me, my cries swallowed by the world's echoes. Unnoticed by this world my pain and life inside me were known only to you. Yet, the streets within me are empty, and your traces are fading away. ...Read more
If it hurts, I'll make it go away quietly. I'll be like a safety net, taking in your pain in the quiet corners. No more tears, just a calm look in your eyes. I'll protect you from the world's harshness, from the sun's scorching or the strangers staring. In my arms, I'll carry your troubles quietly. ...Read more
May the haunting melody of my broken heart echo in your ears. May the storm of tears my eyes release in your memory drown you. If you're lost in your own suffering, come and feel what I'm feeling too. If you are broken, come and cuddle me; you'll discover a shell of nothing but pain. If you are feel...Read more
The whole point of history is its iterability, it is meant to be rewritten and amended for a better outcome. So wallow in your past if you must, but never let it govern you. #umclite #hope #poetry...Read more
I think if I could just hold you, everything would stop hurting for a minute. No metaphors, no clever words— just arms, ardency, and that dizzy relief of you’re real, you’re here, you’re mine for now....Read more
The days run me ragged, work grips me tighter than sleep, by the time I reach home my body folds into silence, my pen lays heavy, dreams undone by fatigue. I know the channel has been quiet, followers drift like passing winds, but silence is not absence it is the weight of duty, the grind that feed...Read more
At the end of the day, soul connection is the kind of intimacy that matters the most. ...Read more