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Poem

Hope fractures like fragile glass,
time caught in silent moments,
each heartbeat a broken echo,
each breath a quiet, losing fight.

Love fades, not in colour,
but into empty space—
a ghost left on cold, cracked earth.

I stand between the rising tide,
where all that divides us
falls away,
and time bends like wet paper in a storm.

Paralysed in the quiet before the fall,
a shadow caught between flood and fire,
waiting for light to rewrite the dark,
to burn away what hides beneath.

Listen closely—
the broken don’t simply fall,
they break apart and rearrange,
becoming new stars in a dark sky.

When waters turn to fire,
and the sky begins to melt,
the soul is neither lost nor found—
it changes into sevenfold light,
folded sharp like origami stars.

Far away is a place inside the fall—
a crater where sorrow grows wings,
and light doesn’t just take you in—
it changes what it means to live.

Stay with the heartbeat—
the last one before silence breaks—
and become the wound
that cannot be healed,
because it holds the power to change.

When floods recede,
and fire cools into dawn’s breath,
we rise—not whole, but remade—
carrying scars as maps
to where light found us,
broken,
and chose to stay.

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