Literature & Arts
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Poem To listen— to your anxiety, your deepest desire, your unspoken pain, your evolving journey. A pause, a breath, a clear space held open. For your voice to unfurl. My stillness absorbs your pain. I’m not here to interject— I offer silence for your healing. In listening, we both become whole.
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Before the world was, there was no sky, no sea, no dust beneath the feet. No east, no west. No up, no down. No sun, no shadow. No stars to guide the wandering eye. There was no time to move things forward. No space to stretch them apart. No gravity to hold, no light to
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Poem Down an English lane, where spring exhales,I roamed, entranced, by flowering trails.Petals swirled in sunlight’s tender beam,A chorus of hues, a woven dream. Cherry’s soft pink, magnolia’s snow,Lilac’s faint blush where breezes flow.Each shade a murmur to heart and thought,A cooling breath, with kindness wrought. Rose’s bold crimson sparked quiet flame,Jasmine’s pale star soothed
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Poem by Maq When I muse on creation, I see nature—near and vast, Deep in thought, I sense atoms—within and beyond. The universe, finite yet infinite—a riddle cast. What came before the dawn? In what time, what place? A singular seed, a dual rift, or a multipolar race? Something from nothing, or nothing’s silent claim?
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Poem Why hide behind pretty words? We too have hearts and minds. Why spin tales of deceit? We too seek the truth. How long behind lies will you stay? We too count the consequences. Think we’re weak in this game? We too know every counter-move. Why see us as an easy target? We too master
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They told you time and again that power is everything. That the more you have, the stronger you’ll be. But have you ever felt the weight of it? The constant need to defend it, to protect it, to maintain it at any cost? You think you’re untouchable, but you’re bound by invisible chains—of expectation, of
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This poverty, this endless despair, A life so broken, beyond repair. What’s left to hold in this fleeting world, Where dreams are crushed, and hopes unfurled? To live each day as if to die, To die each day with a weary sigh. Bound by chains of grief and strife, What meaning lies in this fragile
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If we must die one day, then why, This sorrow, this toil beneath the sky? Why the struggle of autumn leaves, When in the end, they must fall with the breeze? Why chase the sun, forever ablaze, When peace can be found in shadowed days? Why battle the waves with endless might, When songs linger
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Shall I speak or hold my tongue, When truth is bitter, yet unsung? My words of care, they turn away, Yet silence haunts me every day. To see their steps on paths I fear, Hurts my heart, but do they hear? My love compels, my voice must rise, Though met with doubt and clouded eyes.
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A searing pulse, a jagged knife, Cutting through the veins of life. It throbs and pounds, it twists, it tears, A torment born from silent prayers. Each breath, a struggle to survive, Time stands still, yet none alive. The clock forgets to mark its way, In this hell where shadows play. The world outside is
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