Details |
Talorin Ink Poem
Strangers aren't only people we've never met.
Sometimes it's the heart that refuses to accept it.
The one who made you smile,
Then made that smile fade into tears of sorrow and regret.
Once someone you knew,
Became someone you no longer knew.
When time turned the tables,
Meeting them once again,
Only to realize,
The soul you've kept chasing
Had crumbled your image
Into a thousand fragments.
Hatred is a feeling;
The heart still knows your name.
But being forgotten
Means the heart has erased every trace of you.
The memories scattered into pieces that refuse to reunite.
All that's left
Is to cry where only the heart can hear.
The words we once spoke
Remain only echoes,
Wandering through silence.
At last, it became a farewell without a goodbye,
Still waiting for what will never return
While the clock keeps ticking
As the seconds slip away.
Someone once known
Becomes just another stranger.
A name is just a label,
No longer someone the heart recognizes
If the heart has forgotten you.
Even time can't bring you back.
Once gone, there's no returning.
When glass shatters into pieces,
The only thing left to do
Is clear away the pieces.
No one can make shattered glass whole again.
Copyright © Talorin Ink | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Talorin Ink Poem
The voices aren't the same,
Yet measured on the same scale.
Some voices are velvety,
while others are dense.
Yet room was the source,
For storm to spawn.
Neither granted nor withheld,
Only the marks we wear.
It kept the voice in.
Once the voice is circled,
The heart’s eye becomes chained,
Refusing to speak.
Once the asymmetry knocks,
The voice already locked.
Some are sheltered,
Some are discarded,
Some are nurtured,
Some are afflicted,
Yet none can snap its chain.
The bound eye sees,
Only what was molded.
Some to be fearless;
Yet heart vulnerable.
Some to be weak;
Yet hold the strength.
The room,
Voice chased,
Was already fettered by the labels.
Copyright © Talorin Ink | Year Posted 2026
|
Details |
Talorin Ink Poem
Life isn't a scattered piece.
It unfolds into trillions of unknown roads:
Some lead to light,
Some to dark,
Some to danger,
Some to heal.
They stretch endlessly.
The soul that once arrived,
Splinters into fragments.
The glass can be shattered or melted,
Cracked or polished,
Fused or cut,
Recycled or etched.
Yet it remains glass.
Some earn a name.
Some don't.
Yet all meet at the same place,
Where every arrival has always awaited its return.
Demise and emergence:
The funnel and source;
The one no one can ignore,
Still lingering to reclaim
The soul it once awakened.
All you earn,
Remains only as fragments of yesterday.
Roads remember your footsteps,
Until they fade into echoes no one hears.
Names become whispers no one remembers.
Yet the soul keeps chasing the unseen tomorrow,
The endless race,
Forgetting the waiting funnel of life,
That waits to end the journey,
That once began among millions
Of unknown roads.
Copyright © Talorin Ink | Year Posted 2026
|