Fourlinegraphia

In that unhopeful state, we feel no rhythm at all, A hollow dawn;your voice no longer here. It ended in a moment none could hold, A shattered breath, an unforeseen goodbye from everything. *** The world broke open on that fatal turn, A scream of fate;time and thoughts split into ash. One second whole, the next forever gone- And I was left behind to count the void in the dark. *** Shattered from life, I stood between two worlds, And saw the virgin face of death before me. Its quiet gaze held neither rage nor mercy, Just endless stillness calling me to fall. *** Each breath I take feels borrowed, never mine, As if I crossed that line and lost my way. I search for you in corners of the day and dark, But silence answers every whispered hope. *** Even tears refuse to fall for you now, The sky within is heavy, sealed, and still. Your absence echoes louder than all sound, Through empty rooms that once had warmth and light. *** The nights grow long, unending in their weight, Where memories blo...

  !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Before the dawn breaks through this ashen sky, A tender breeze slips softly wandering by, I rock you slow where broken shadows lie, “Not tonight be still,” I trembling cry. *** Oh, wandering wind, don’t cross her face, The shells fall down, they shatter every place, Go rest upon the distant, silent trees, And spare my child your restless, haunted seas. *** The walls have turned to dust around our breath, Yet moonlight dims, afraid to echo death, It softens beams upon this fractured room, Just bright enough to guard you from the gloom. *** The restless rooster hushed its cry tonight, Though distant fire still stains the dark with light, Even the crickets soften all around, As if they fear to make a single sound. *** “They took the arms that once would shelter you,” She whispers low to skies no longer blue, “Your father sleeps where silence now has grown,” Yet still I bear this night for you alone. *** Hush now, my child, don’t wake to hear t...

Poverty is not just suffering- it erases a person’s identity, dignity, and future. She does not know the beauity  of her wheat skin- only the pallor dust has made her own, a breath of ash that settles in her lungs, a whiteness worn more deeply than her skin. *** The mill persists,an unrelenting will- its iron throat consuming hours and bone; each turning stone inscribes upon her hands the grammar of a life reduced to toil. *** No dawn attends her with a gentler name. I call her thus-the maiden made of golden grain, for she is bound to what she cannot taste, and shaped by what she labors to sustain. *** They number sacks yet never reckon need, they weigh the flour but never measure worth. Within her, hunger ripens into fire, a slow, consuming argument with flesh. *** No bread is hers, though bread is what she makes; she feeds on dust that settles at her lips, as if the body, schooled in long denial, might learn to live on absence made to seem. *** Her wages are the residue of work: ...

  In Silent Valley, I came so small, A cricket with dreams, with love for all, To spread soft peace in silent air, And sing of kindness everywhere. *** I thought this land, so calm and deep, Was where all hearts in peace could sleep, A place of love, so pure and wide, Where no harsh truths would ever hide. *** Upon a branch, with silver mane, Sat the Lion-tailed macaque in silent frame, He looked at me, so still, so wise, As if he knew life’s hidden ties. *** “Dear little one,” he softly said, “Not all is calm as it is read, This is no land of gentle peace, Where all your tender songs find ease.” *** “There is no place for you to live, This world takes more than it can give, This valley strong, both wild and true, Is not a place designed for you.” *** I paused my song, my voice grew weak, “Is there no place for love I seek? No space for care, no gentle art, To share the warmth within my heart?” *** He spoke again, “You must understand, Not every soul can fit each land, Nature is ne...

Beneath the earth, in ant-tunnels dim and long, I walked with my flying Mind, where silence turns to song. A crystal lay, like sunlight held in clay- A fragile truth that shimmered for a day. *///* My Mind asked softly, “Does this sweetness give life, Or is it but a spark that turns to strife?” I said, “If one believes it is the whole, Then loss will surely fracture such a soul.” *///* An ant rushed forth, like fire that leaps to claim: “This joy,” she cried, “and I are but the same.” She clutched it tight, as though it held her breath, While fear stood near, the quiet twin of death. *///* Here, desire mistook the part for whole- A hunger crowned and named itself the soul. What pleased the sense, she gathered into truth, And chained her being to its fleeting youth. *///* My Mind then whispered, “See how craving binds; Each grasp for more leaves hidden pain behind.” I felt the truth beneath that fragile sight: What’s held too hard can never hold the light. *///* Another came, like still...

Is this the peace we name ? a fragile hush, Between the past that burns and threats to come? A silence stitched with fear, not healing truth, Where wounds lie still, yet whisper what’s undone. *** In shadowed quiet where soft voices fade, There lies a truth too weighty to be held- A fragile hope delayed by our own hands, Awaiting those whose courage is not quelled. *** Peace is not born from darkness holding breath, Nor from the calm complacency defends; It lives within the fury of the storm, A fire through which the will to stand transcends. *** Across the earth, divided voices rise, Not seeking justice, only victory; As if the act of winning broken wars Could mend the roots of fractured dignity. *** And those who wear the symbols forged for peace Stand silent, bound by words that lost their claim; They watch as history repeats its wounds, Yet fail to act, and still invoke its name. *** If we do not act when the moment calls, What right have we to say that we are one? If titles mask t...