Whispers in the Attic

Beneath the attic's gentle, wooden loom,
I wove my wonders, treasures small but bright,
A haven tucked within my childhood room.

I crouched beneath the beams to feel their might,
Their arching curves a shield from all my fears,
And watched the shadows shift with waning light. 

In that small world, where silence calmed my tears,
I found peace beneath the rafters' bloom,
A hidden space where I could leave behind the years. 

The attic door aglow, a sacred room,
Where shadows fade, and memories take flight,
I find my peace beneath the quiet gloom. 

#TerzaRima

A Walk to Remember

Your steps are slow, but steady still,
We walk the path beneath the hill.
Your hand in mine, once strong, now frail,
Yet full of stories you regale.

The autumn leaves, like memories, fall,
A tapestry of times we recall.
You speak of days when I was small,
Your love the thread that wove it all.

The air is crisp, the evening near,
Yet in your eyes, the past is clear.
You smile and tell me not to cry,
For love like ours will never die.

Though years may pass and seasons turn,
These moments stay, as lessons burn.
A walk to remember, side by side,
With you, my mother, my heart, my guide.

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.