We slow the moon’s silent march,

At the brink of the abyss, we pause.

But only to grasp at fleeting treasures,

Never to question their cause.

Armoured by fear, we march through storms,

Seeking solace in a fleeting sun.

Our hearts, volcanoes of rebellion and sorrow,

Erupt with dreams that cannot be undone.

The rain falls, but does not cleanse,

The rivers flow, but do not heal.

We are both creators and destroyers,

Bound by a wheel we cannot still.

O humanity, what will remain?

When the forests wither and the oceans drain?

When the earth, exhausted, falls silent at last,

And our dreams are relics of a forgotten past?

“The road ahead is a metaphor for all we seek and fear. It stretches endlessly, both a promise and a challenge – a reflection of our inner journey.”

The road, the distant road,

How it beckons with its endless lines.

The wind whispers of places unknown,

Of shadows cast by ancient signs.

Lost in dreams, I tread this path,

Each step a question, each shadow a doubt.

The sea crashes, its waves dissolve,

Leaving foam where hope runs out.

I yearned for loss, for wisdom’s cost,

But now, what remains of me?

Perhaps only dust upon the breeze,

A fleeting ghost of what could be.

Where is the path, so pure, so bright,

That destiny promised in the stars?

Its horizon fades into the night,

Yet I still follow its endless scars.

The road, the distant road,

Its echoes haunt my restless heart.

The wind carries my soul away,

Yet I am bound to its eternal start.

In the road’s embrace, I find my truth —

Not in its end, but in its length.

For every shadow and every stone,

Grants me wisdom, grants me strength.

“There was a strange stillness that day, as if the world whispered secrets meant only for the brave to hear. I listened to the leaves, and they carried my fears away.”

The whisper of leaves, fresh winds that cry —

Have we strayed too far beneath this sky?

Perhaps the shard’s edge has cut too deep,

Or the heart’s soft murmur is bound to weep.

A cup falls, shattering in shadowed halls,

A mouse scurries through the silken walls.

Summer has fled, its blossoms dry,

Night’s harsh voice cloaks the garden’s sigh.

Bread turns stale, preserved by mould;

Life lingers on, though not all hold.

A butterfly hides from the empty air,

While water whispers, clouds declare.

The wind moans low, the oak tree bends,

Rumours grow heavy, no voice defends.

Grief drowns grief in this solemn haze,

Cold hands falter, the heart obeys.

The phone rings sharply, a hollow tone,

Echoing glances, a mossy stone.

The tempter’s jest – a cruel disguise,

In paper traps and clever lies.

Coins bow heads; they make us kneel,

Prayers rise heavy, their weight too real.

War without war, hunger’s quiet refrain,

Gold unseen, marking days of pain.

“Dreams sometimes open doors to places we cannot return from. I stood before a castle, its gates swinging wide, and I walked through, knowing the world would never be the same.”

A castle of dreams, its gates unfold,

Once shy, now bold, in whispers told.

I gather words like fleeting sighs,

The river’s rush, where longing lies.

This tender world, so soft, remains—

Why do thoughts bear so many stains?

The sand, the breath, the salt-laced kiss,

Draw me toward a hidden abyss.

The body shrouded in velvet mist,

The sea-wind’s hum, the sunset kissed.

A fragile wave reflects the glass,

Where time and tide shall never pass.

The night holds vigil, stars align,

Each moment whispers, “You are mine.”

A shadow’s dance, a fleeting thread,

The castle lives within my head.

“I love to dance. All my childhood, I danced with grace and elegance—classical, waltz, and Latin rhythms that set my spirit free. Even now, when I am weary, only dance can carry me to my world. Beneath the vast sky, I seek not answers but freedom: to dance, to dream, to feel that every step is a triumph over gravity.”

To dance on stars, to feel their glow,

To weave a dream where rivers flow.

To shimmer bright amidst the crowd,

A voice of grace, both strong and proud.

The world unfolds, a canvas vast,

Awaiting rhythm, sure and fast.

The winds may whisper, “no, you can’t,”

But destiny cries, “you shall enchant!”

To be as air, unbound, supreme,

To rise above life’s harsh extreme.

To love, to lead, to stand, to dare,

To dance my way through light and air.

I seek the flight, the endless chase,

The night’s embrace, the wild heart’s grace.

To break the walls that hold me tight,

To let in hope, a golden light.

My soul a fire, my words a song,

A lion’s spirit, fierce and strong.

Forever true to dreams I claim,

A queen of life, in dance’s name.

“I ran along the shore today, the wind tearing at my hair, the salt stinging my skin. It felt like the ocean was trying to cleanse my grief. For the first time in months, I felt a glimmer of peace. Grief is a tempest, but even in its depths, I found the strength to stay afloat. The stars above reminded me of the light we carry within.”

The sea of tears, an endless expanse,

Draws me into its mournful dance.

Beneath the waves, where silence cries,

I see no ground, no saving skies.

In this abyss, where deserts fail,

The sun’s fierce fire leaves no trail.

Alone I drift, a shadow untamed,