Echoes of the Day

The day’s chaos lingers, a restless tide,
waves of voices crash, they won’t subside.
The echoes remain where silence should be,
a battlefield carved deep inside of me.

Footsteps of hours march through my brain,
each moment heavy, a whisper of strain.
The sun may have set, but shadows stay,
haunting the corners, unbidden, they play.

Yet somewhere beneath this riotous sound,
a numbness begins to settle, profound.
It wraps like fog, cold and thick,
a cure, a curse - it numbs too quick.

The mind wavers, unable to decide,
to fight or surrender, to stand or to hide.
And so I drift, caught in between,
the wreckage of chaos, the blank unseen.

Play the Hand

Not the cards you’re given,
but the turn you take,
the weight of waiting,
the steady breath,
the look unshaken.

You’ll learn the art of folding,
know when to raise,
and when to hold close
what's hidden,
what you don’t yet show.

The deal isn’t destiny - 
it’s in the slip of a finger,
the flick of a wrist,
the light in your eyes
as you lean in and play.

The Game of Wanting

 What I want... slips from reach,
A ghost in the dark, a word out of speech.
I stretch out my hands, but all I find,
A space filled with longing, a restless mind.

What I have... I don’t crave,
Leftovers from battles I didn’t save.
They gather dust on a crowded shelf,
Fragments of a life that’s not myself.

What I seek... hides away,
A treasure buried, led astray.
Maps I’ve followed that fade to mist,
Paths that twist and then don’t exist.

What I found... I can’t face,
Truths too sharp, too full of grace.
They cut like glass, they burn like fire,
Testing the edge of my heart’s desire.

What I’ve endured... I didn’t deserve,
Echoes of choices that dip and swerve.
Lessons etched in scars and lines,
Worn through years and stolen time.

How much more elusive, will life dare to be?
A riddle of shadows, never set free.
I’m caught in the chase, in the wanting’s snare,
As life holds its secrets, just out of air.

Feeling Stoned

Eyes half-closed,

the world bleeds slow—

a smear of noise,

a hum too loud.

Thoughts calcify,

stacked stones, heavy

as sleep.

I move but don't;

a puppet, a shadow—

arms draped in fog,

nerves dulled to dust.

Life unfolds,

unasked, unhurried,

like smoke curling,

like ash drifting,

and I—

silent, sunk,

carved in cold stone.

Fated Hearts, Eternal Promise

 A story of love, of hearts entwined,
drawn together, beyond design.
Though fate once wrote our paths askew,
our bond was forged when time was new.

These eyes that searched through endless night,
now meet your gaze in morning light.
Stay close to me, don’t drift away,
by your side, I vow to stay.

I’ll find you now, or lose it all,
with every rise, with every fall.
So hold me tight, our spirits one,
in your love’s glow, my life’s begun.

Two by Two: Her Map of Hearts

She sketches grids, a girl alone,
Mapping love in lines and tone.
Two by two, she starts to see
How hearts can part by destiny.

Top left: sparks, intense and bright,
Where lovers burn like stars at night.
Quick to catch, yet soon to fade—
A fleeting flame, a lesson made.

Below, a quiet box she keeps,
Where kindness rests and comfort sleeps.
Here lie friends who know her well,
An enduring, magic spell.

To one side, excitement’s thrill,
The dizzy pull, the fleeting fill.
Yet shifting to a steady ground,
Where trust and faith are truly found.

In grids and squares, she seeks to chart
The lines that shape her heart and art.
Two by two, she makes her start—
To learn love's map and know her heart.

Becoming Her

She wasn’t born knowing herself,
she uncovered her piece by piece,
on a road long and rough.

Each misstep revealed a truth,
each hardship, a key,
unlocking parts of her soul.

As the path twisted,
with trials to bear,
the deeper she ventured,
the more she became.

In every bruise and scar,
she found strength,
in every doubt, a spark.
The harsher the journey,
the more she emerged—
resilient, unwavering.

With every jagged mile,
she grew into herself,
until the woman she was meant to be
stood tall at the journey’s end.

Ratan Tata: A Legend’s Farewell

In quiet grace, you walked this earth,
A man of steel, yet filled with mirth.
No trumpet’s blare, no towering might,
But humble steps in morning light.

A gentle heart, a steady hand,
You built an empire, healed the land.
You led with care, your path was clear,
In every action, you drew near.

"Thank you for thinking of me," you spoke,
As love and legacy awoke.
No final crown, no victory cry,
But a gratitude to all, whispered to the sky.

And though you've gone, your spirit stays,
In hearts that beat through endless days.
For legends live beyond their time,
In every soul, in every rhyme.

An End

In life, one truth we cannot bend,
Death—the certain, final end.
A sudden jolt, a bitter sting,
When news of loss begins to ring.

A life well-lived, with dreams pursued,
A journey long, with memories imbued.
Steps taken, miles crossed,
But what remains when life is lost?

Some foresee their final breath,
Others meet an unseen death.
What of the dreams that never soared,
Or the words unsaid, forever stored?

Do they linger, these unfinished tales,
In the echoes where the spirit sails?
Is there a world beyond our sight,
Where souls observe their final flight?

I ponder as I gaze afar,
Reflecting on this endless scar.
For in the end, we all must see,
The mystery of death’s decree.