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Best Poems Written by Pratik Sakhare

Below are the all-time best Pratik Sakhare poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Pratik Sakhare Poem

TAKE HER!!

My heart’s a grave, don’t wake her, wake her.

Her laughter stings like glass in the veins,
If she's poison, let it break her.

Nights fall heavy, shadows dance,
If love’s a joke, just make her faker

I’ve chained my soul to her absent touch,
If I’m the sinner, drag her further.

Hey God, if I can’t take her, take her,

Details | Pratik Sakhare Poem

FORGET THE FOREVER

You, me, seashore, one place, one earphone,  
Coconut with two straws—one ice cream, two noses.  
Cold winds, but your warmth wraps me whole,  
Two souls in one sweater, hearts beating slow.

Sitting under the moon, watching him chase the clouds,  
And that night, love, I realized how foolish I’ve been,  
Calling you my moon in all my poems—  
When he borrows his light, and you, you shine without a single shadow within.

Our legs sinking into the sand, always chasing the shore,  
Waves kissing our toes as they meet once more.  
I’ll show you the pictures—screenshots I took slowly,  
Not the perfect ones, just the freaky, fuzzy shots where you’re you, wholly.

I lied when I said I was chasing butterflies in your hair,  
You were between my legs, your spine pressed against my chest,  
Wrapped in one jacket, sharing warmth, our breaths in sync.  
The shore beneath us, waves whispering secrets at our feet.  
I told you I was playing with a butterfly,  
But really, I was setting your hair free from that clip that didn’t care.  
I needed to feel your hair wild, untamed, falling like waves,  
As it brushed against my face, soft strands dancing with the breeze,  
Every lock sent chills down my spine,  
Your scent filling the air, your hair wrapping around my fingers,  
And the wind, like us, was making us one,  
Your hair, in its messy perfection, said more than words could ever speak.

Your hair blowing, my eyes closing, breath aligning with the wind,  
Like the universe itself was folding us together, as if it had planned it.  
Let’s forget forever—just be with me tonight—  
Until we count every star, holding on to each other tight.

No time, no crowd, just you and me, enough as we are,  
I want to bury my ego in the sand, let it go,  
In that moment, I’ll be mad, unfiltered,  
The way I would be before my mother, no regrets left to show.

We’ll dream of a future, a life we’ve yet to write,  
Maybe two passengers might join us—two little hands we’ll miss tonight.  
And as our eyes grow heavy, as stars fade from the sky,  
We’ll break the chains that hold us, love—eyes closed, we’ll fly.

Good morning, whenever we wake from that sleep so deep,  
Now four hands and two rings—two hearts that forever keep.

The rest of the story, love, I’ll tell you in a language only we’ll know...  
When we leave this seashore.

Details | Pratik Sakhare Poem

IN YOUR REFUGE GOD

Hey God, if I can’t take her, take her,
My heart’s a grave, don’t wake her, wake her.

Her laughter stings like glass in the veins,
If she's poison, let it break her, break her.

Nights fall heavy, shadows dance and mock,
If love’s a joke, just make her faker, faker.

I’ve chained my soul to her absent touch,
If I’m the sinner, drag her further, further.

Her name, like fire, burns through my lips,
If she's a curse, then shake her, shake her.

I built her throne with my shattered bones,
If I can't rule, let darkness stake her, stake her.

She wears her lies like a second skin,
If truth can’t bend, just make her staler, staler.

I chased her echo down hollow streets,
If I’m too lost, then fade her, fade her.

Hey God, this prayer’s a twisted plea,
If I can’t take her, take her, take her.

Let time unspool the webs she spun,
If I can't win, then break her, break her.

She whispers love, but sells it in stocks,
If love’s for trade, then crash her, take her.

I’ve built a shrine for her ego to feast,
If pride’s her god, then forsake her, fake her.

Hey God, she prays for everything but me,
If she’s so holy, then bake her, bake her.

Let karma come with a bit of spice,
If I can’t burn her, make life flake her, take her.

Details | Pratik Sakhare Poem

Unwritten Promises

In the shadows where silence speaks loudest,
I found you, not in words, but pauses—
Between breaths, between worlds, we exist,
A rhythm of forgotten, unspoken causes.

You are the dusk that lingers, just before night,
An unraveling thread of fate’s own disguise.
I reach for you, but the moon holds tight,
A dance of hands too far, yet close in our eyes.

Does love ask why it blooms where thorns grow?
Or does it surrender, burning in its own fire?
I question the stars, but they already know,
That hearts break on the wings of lost desire.

In every smile, a tear that never fell,
In every word, the silence that haunts,
Yet we stay, bound by this bitter-sweet spell,
Chasing ghosts of what the soul wants.

Between every line I write your name,
In letters too frail to hold you close.
We are, perhaps, the same—
A whispered promise no one knows.

Details | Pratik Sakhare Poem

Wings of Tomorrow

I rise, not from the ashes,
But from the soil, where roots of doubt held me bound,
A quiet rebellion against the weight of days,
I lift my chin to the sky, where every cloud speaks of possibility,
And every breath pulls me from the night.

In the depths of darkness, I found my strength,
Not in battles fought, but in silent endurance,
Where each scar is a line etched with hope,
A map leading me to the edge of my own limits,
To the place where I break, only to rebuild.

I am the quiet storm, gentle yet relentless,
The calm after the chaos, the whisper after the scream,
For I have learned that light isn’t found—it’s created,
Shaped in the shadows of what we fear,
And ignited by the belief that tomorrow holds more.

I am human, flawed and infinite,
Woven from moments of falling and rising,
From tears that watered the seeds of resilience,
From laughter that echoed through the empty halls of doubt,
I soar not because I’ve won,
But because I’ve learned to trust the wind beneath my wings.

In every ending, I find a new beginning,
No darkness, only the canvas of stars yet unseen.
And here I stand—
On the edge, breath held,
Waiting… for the fall or the flight.