A steady stream of compromise never leads to a pool of peace.
It leads to a charred-out soul and silence pruned of its golden wings.
Our phones glow brighter than the stars at night,
Our laptops keep us working till morning light.
We scroll through lives that seem perfect and bright,
While hiding our own tears far out of sight.
Social networks whisper, “You are not enough,”
Turning simple days into battles tough.
We chase notifications, likes, and praise,
And slowly lose ourselves in endless maze.
When stress grows heavy and anxiety stays,
We search for medicines to soften the days.
Some light a cigarette to calm the mind,
Yet leave another silent wound behind.
At midnight, sleep stands waiting at the door,
But restless thoughts keep asking for more.
Insomnia becomes our quiet friend,
While exhausted minds refuse to end.
We are more connected than ever before,
Yet sometimes feel alone at our own door.
Perhaps the healing begins when we learn to disconnect,
And give our tired hearts the peace and love they deserve.
- Jolly Muhury Samui :(
Her suffering was her currency as she would trade in sympathies among a band of devils driven wild by their needs to be possessed and to possess in a world seldom fair being built in complications simple heads never seem to ever understand and.
She was Magnificent.
They way she tore me down. Only one other thing had ever hurt me more.
When my eyes gaze on that cross
Oh what love i see
For their God,s son gave his life
A sacrifice for me.
The pain he suffered on that cross
All this for me he took
I'm reminded of the price it cost
When to that cross i look.
God,s love it is not hidden
It's there for all to see
For on that cross long ago
Christ died for you and me.
I travelled far to cast my vote,
carrying the weight of life with me.
By evening, I watched the news
my country had built a mighty weapon.
Missiles, aircraft, fire
I felt proud of our strength.
Then I stepped into my garden.
The leaves still held
the morning's dew.
A flower still carried
the last light of the sun.
I watered the plants.
The sky roared.
Aircraft crossed it like birds,
but instead of flowers,
they dropped death.
My garden turned red.
One white flower remained,
a single drop of blood
resting on its petal.
I looked at the sky.
Who won the war?
Who lost it?
The sky stayed silent.
The earth answered in blood.
I gave my vote for my country,
and felt proud of its strength.
But when will we win
the greatest war of all
the war for a world
where a child's white flower
never carries the stain of blood?
What I want wanted
Is all that I want.
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Girls - girls in Calvin Klein
Thong girls, girls in pink purple
Red Red Red lace girls
Who sit silently in cars
Your windshield
Charm hitting rhythmically the wall
Chokes
Better
Judgement
Like
Victoria Secret lace going for Thirty-Five going for Thirty-Four surely no less than Thirty-Three million lives lost in sweat shops.
Shop Girls!
Sweat Girls!
Red girls in Red shops and Red cheeks
And pretty pink bits
In their pretty pink bits
All lace and want.
You want this delicate labour.
Of skin, of Cotton.
34D and it's made just for you.
This took eighteen years.
You'll find me in my panties drawer
When you like -
Our range is extraordinary.
Have you seen the peach? The clementine?
We don't really sell the pineapple, but you can take her for a spin if you're feeling a little naughty.
Wet baskets spill like the want of your beating wallet.
The Price of a Mother
They warned me of sleepless nights,
tiny shoes and lullabies.
No one warned me hearts grow taller,
or that silence echoes louder.
Not death...
That grief is honest.
This is loving someone
who simply chooses
not to come home.
Another headache.
Another flu.
Another promise
that falls through.
How strange the sickest days
always seem
to arrive
when they involve you.
I gave you everything—
my youth,
my strength,
my dreams.
I filled your life
while emptying mine.
I taught you kindness,
grace,
humility.
Somewhere along the climb,
you forgot
the hands that lifted you.
Now I'm
"not your kind of people."
Funny...
I used to be
your whole world.
Motherhood is a bargain
only a mother would make—
giving away pieces of herself
to raise someone
who may never notice
what's missing.
Maybe one day
you'll understand.
Maybe one day
you'll hear my silence
the way I hear yours.
But by then...
"I'm sorry"
won't bring back
missed birthdays,
empty chairs,
or borrowed time.
Because the saddest truth
I've ever learned is this—
"I'm sorry"
doesn't rhyme
with anything.
Pain learning to smile.
As it has all the while.
Picking I yourself up even when you don't want to.
True.
Time never healed you.
Pain doesn't make you strong.
That's wrong.
No, time doesn't heal.
It can't feel.
Another layer to peel.
Alone in a crowd.
Alone, don't say it to loud.
Strength to walk.
Words that you talk.
So many people around.
Plenty of love to be found.
But I see.
Just not for me.
Part of being free.
Every day is today.
The price you pay .
They say.
Hearts mend.
Will's bend
Souls live forever.
Love, never
Give me strength today.
Keep going my own way.
Nothing changes.
Just rearranges.
Time.
Rhyme.
Days go by .
Why bother to cry.
All the same.
Myself to blame.
So lame.
I once was of that darkness, the turmoil from within,
anger, hurt, strife and wrath, the things made of sin.
How these things, destroys the heart you see,
the darkness is, as it does, using both you and me.
There is a price to those, who has been redeemed it’s true,
the searching of the truth, about the darkness, in me and you .
Destruction comes in darkness, it’s death to mankind,
warring Angels of our Lord, the chains they unbind.
To set free the captive, for it’s from the heart we live,
the price of our redemption, to others, life we give.
For life gives life, breath for breath you see,
living in the shadows, spreads death, to you and me.
I'll go to my deathbed with your dirty secret
But know that there's a price to pay.
AP: Honorable Mention 2026
I'll go to my deathbed with your dirty secret
But know that there's a price to pay.
Forgiveness doesn’t live here,
so don’t come knocking at this door.
It’s closed.
I already paid the price with a broken heart.
Forgiveness doesn’t live here anymore.
I locked that door.
“I’m sorry” will never fix this broken soul.
Don’t ask.
I paid the price when you nailed me to the cross.
Now I bleed on people who never cut me.
So don’t ask me for forgiveness.
It doesn’t live here.
And I don’t care.
You were the only one I trusted.
Now I’m broken and fragile.
Love stopped living here, so I don’t care.
I already paid a price money can’t buy.
I will never forgive you,
so don’t ask.
Forgiveness doesn’t live in the walls you built.
Bitterness and pain - that’s all that lives within.
Don’t ask.
Forgiveness comes at a cost money can’t fix.
You can’t have character and an easy life
Despite the effort to avoid pain and strife
It can hollow you out seeking paradise
Irrevocable setbacks are the asking price
How sad do you think I truly felt,
When the rock struck her head?
She tumbled right over the cliff’s edge,
After all the blood we'd shed.
She broke my nose, she cracked my skull,
While playing the "best friend" part
All because I found a love
That she lacked in her own heart.
Such relief, isn't it?
The price of the Exit
I stayed for the requirement.
The dinner, the wine, and the companionship
all the things that look like love
but feel like a debt.
Now I am given a way out
of a cell without bars.
To buy the key
It wasn't a prison until I tried to go.
Now, I’m paying the price of freedom
with a golden ticket
I didn’t know I had to buy.
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