Fourlinegraphia

 I rise from ash, with embers in my veins. I tread through dusk, where broken echoes fade. I stand composed before the circling storm. My heart burns bright flame through silent night. I walk through trial with measured breath and will. I face the surge of doubt that grips my chest. I keep my course when tempests howl and press. My soul stands firm stone against dark winds. I cast aside the weight of former shame. I break the clasp of chains long rusted fast. I lift my sight beyond the fractured past. My will stands steel strong, forged in flame. I move ahead, though thunder splits the sky. I press through grief that seeks to bend my frame. I rise anew from each resounding fall. My spirit stands tall, fierce and free. I claim my ground with undiminished voice. I shape my fate with deliberate hand. I hold my truth, though hostile tongues deride. My oath rings loud clear through the night. I stride through fire with steadfast inner calm. I bear the scars as emblems of my growth. I gu...

  High above Sahya’s emerald crest, Where monsoon winds find fleeting rest, A wandering cloud in silver shroud Keeps silent watch from heights unbowed. It drifts where ancient temples rise, Where ocean clasps the island’s sighs, And gathers in its shadowed breast The truths that time has left unguessed. “O Jayan,” murmurs mist and air, “I bear the scenes you cannot share- The fields, the shores, the mountain’s hue Still breathe and softly speak of you. But more than hills and tides I bring; I carry witness of a living thing. Dear Jayan, I saw her there.” In dawn’s pale hush, before the hall Awakes to duty’s measured call, She draws aside the curtain’s light And bends above her page to write. No trumpet sounds, no banners rise- Only the truth behind her eyes. A quiet hand begins to trace A thought long schooled in silent space. Her father’s books line walnut shelves, Histories, sermons, learned selves; By candle’s end and guarded hours She gathered there her hidden powers. The mind-...

  In the quiet yard, where shadows softly lie, Your tiny footprints linger, though you’ve said goodbye. A whispered memory in the breeze’s gentle flow, The echo of your laughter, the light you used to show. Sunlight caught in downy hair, a wonder in your gaze, Exploring all the borders of our fleeting, tender days. A red rose torn in triumph, a treasure in your hand, Moments spun from innocence, too precious to withstand. I remember how I warned, how I tried to keep you near, But time’s unyielding river carried you away from here. Now silent grass and untouched blooms mark where you once stood, A sacred space of memories, misunderstood. Your voice still dances in the corners of my mind, A melody of love that I can scarcely leave behind. Oh, how I long to hold you, to hear your cry again, To keep you in my heartbeat, safe from grief and pain. I trace the empty spaces where your laughter used to ring, Feel the hollow echo of the joy that you would bring. The toys remain in corners, u...

  I walk through sorrow like quiet rain, softly passing through its terrain - not untouched, nor turned to stone, but carrying echoes of what I’ve known. My heart is numb; no tears will fall, a silent ache behind a wall. No sorrow spills, no pain confessed, just hollow quiet in my chest. When grief is locked and will not rise, it lingers dim behind my eyes. I suffer still, though none can see, and mourn the tears withheld from me. To long for weeping - bitter, strange - to grieve the grief that will not change. A heavier burden I must bear: the weight of absence everywhere. Yet under skin grown cold and thin, a muted pulse survives within - a fragile ember, faint but true, remembering what feeling knew. For numbness is not death of flame, only fire without a name. And even walls I’ve learned to raise may crack beneath these silent days. Then grief may come, both soft and slow, not as a wound but as a flow - a quiet rain on waiting ground, a gentle ache I almost found. I grieve for ...

In the jungle, big and wide, Lived a lion full of pride. With a roar so loud and strong, He sang the jungle’s morning song. An elephant stomped by the trees, Swinging his trunk in the breeze. A monkey jumped from vine to vine, Chattering, “This jungle’s mine!” A zebra ran with stripes so bright, A giraffe stood tall in golden light. A parrot squawked from up above, Filling the air with songs of love. The lion smiled and softly said, “No need to fear or run in dread. We share the jungle, you and me, Together we live happily!” So in the jungle, day and night, All the animals felt just right. With friends to laugh and play along, Their home was full of joy and song.        #poetry #poet #poem #poetrycommunity #poetrylovers #poetsofinstagram #instapoetry #writersoffacebook #creativewriting #spokenword #heartfelt #soulwords #deepthoughts #bleedingink #emotionalpoetry   #loveandloss #silentfeelings     #moonpoetry #rainpoems #naturepoet #fourlinegr...

  We walk this fragile road as one, Beneath the moon, beneath the sun. We rise with hope, we break, we mend, Begin again where stories end. Life -a fleeting, trembling flame, Never steady, never same. Time, the magician, shapes and bends, Turning strangers into friends. Sometimes we whisper, what a fate, Sometimes, how did we escape? Sometimes silence is our prayer, Learning peace is already there. So chase not every ghostly call, Nor fear the shadows as they fall. Turn inward, where the quiet light Burns beyond both dark and bright. Sit in stillness, let thoughts sleep, Where the soul listens deep. No victory there, no losing fight, Only peace - gentle and bright. And when the quiet visitors depart, They leave their echoes in the heart. For in that silence, calm and true, Lives the love that carries you.