The Center

-

 


I walk a path that’s mine alone,
A throne of wants, a heart of stone.
The world, it spins around my name,
And others play a fleeting game.

Your needs are whispers in the air,
Mine roar like fire—bold, unfair.
I take, I claim, I push, I pull,
Empathy? A concept dull.

Your praise is never quite enough,
My light is bright, your glow is bluff.
I talk, you listen—such is fate,
I lead, I rule, I dominate.

Critique me once, I strike with fire,
Your words mean less than my desire.
Anger flares when I don’t win,
As if your doubt’s some kind of sin.

I build myself from borrowed gold,
And shine in stories I’ve retold.
The mirror loves the face it sees,
And bows beneath my self-made breeze.

So call me proud or say I’m blind,
But I was never made to mind
The quiet needs of those like you—
The world feels right from my own view.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Solitary Road

-
Image
  The Solitary Road ****************** I have never walked this winding path before, Nor known what secrets wait on either shore. Before my eyes, the dusty road extends, Into the mist where sight and distance ends. *** Upon the clay, deep footprints mark the ground, Where time keeps watch in silence all around. Before my time, through shadows and through light, Unknown spirits walked into the night. *** Through steep ascents and rocks that bruise the feet, Past rusted iron spikes and blinding heat, I wander slow, with parched and burning lips, As sweat like drink from weary fingers drips. *** So many narrow lanes and shortcuts hide, Yet not a single sign to act as guide. But a weathered stone, worn down by wind and rain, Whispers to me amidst the steady pain: *** "The feet that climbed the mountain's highest peak, Will never fear the valleys, low and bleak." Some paths were paved with glitter, wealth, and praise, Some promised love to brighten weary days. *** Some left th...
Read more

The Refugee

-
Image
  The border was a wound drawn across our blood, A sudden storm that stole the earth we knew. The rivers forgot the songs they once had sung, And the sky no longer felt like home or true. We left our doors, our gardens, and our names, Carrying only memories in our eyes. A home is not made only of walls and flames- It lives where a heart can safely rise. I walked away with nothing in my hand, Yet carried worlds that others could not see. The dust of my homeland followed every step, A silent shadow walking beside me. I became a pillar made of fragile clay, Holding a roof of borrowed skies above. I hid my wounds beneath a quiet smile, And gave my weakness the shape of love. They saw the lamp that brightened up their night, The hands that stitched their broken dreams again. They never saw the darkness inside my soul, Or counted all the tears hidden like rain. I became the river that never stopped flowing, Even when the stones had broken me. I gave my mornings to their tomorrow, And bur...
Read more

In Your Silence, I Reside

-
Image
I’ve learned to read the space you leave, The quiet hollows where words used to breathe. Your silence, a language I come to know- Not just absence, but the depths you show.   You walk away, and I stand still, Listening for echoes I can’t will. My tears fall softly, unspoken, unseen, Waiting for a voice that might have been.   You think strength is hiding away, But silence can be a storm in disarray. It’s the crack in the armor, the fragile break, The silent ache you choose not to fake.   When I cry, I need your hand- Not silence, not a distant stand. Love isn’t quiet when it’s true, It’s the voice that reaches, the care that’s due.   And now I see, I must reclaim, My heart’s own voice, my healing flame. I’ll build anew from what was lost, No door left open for the cost.   You may walk away, convinced you’re free, But in silence, I hold the key. For I’ve learned that love’s true art- Is knowing when to heal, and when to part.   ...
Read more

I, the First Sanctuary

-
Image
  I am the quiet fold of a woman’s embrace, the warm curve where the world first opens its eyes. From the foothills of my body, life climbs upward- every birth rising through me like dawn breaking over a mountain. I am the soft garden where lips learn their first language, the river that quenches the earliest thirst, the cradle where innocence curls in sleep, the harbor where trembling souls find their shore. Across me flow lullabies older than memory. In my tenderness hide the unshed tears of mothers who carried more than the world will ever know. I hold stories in my curves- dreams, longings, names whispered through centuries. Who has not traveled across me? Who has not rested in my shelter? In every gaze, every touch, every fleeting hunger, I see the reflection of the human race- a flame of need, a spark of hope, a fire that keeps life breathing. Sometimes I wander the world misread, misunderstood, like a traveler carrying a truth too ancient to explain. Yet I remain what I have...
Read more

The Chain and Thread

-
Image
  Everything is held together by a chain - Invisible, unbreakable, full of love and truth. It begins with the first breath of a child, And ends beneath the fading sky, Like a vast structure holding us in place. Who made this chain? The chain made itself. It was shaped in every moment, Linked together by time, Sparkling in emotions too deep for words. Every smile, Every unspoken tear, Every thought that drifts through silence, Is a link in this chain. Joy clasps sorrow, Hope embraces despair, Love ties anger with a thread so rare. Nothing stands alone - Not even pain, not even peace. A mother’s lullaby echoes in a rebel’s cry. A child’s laughter dances in an old man’s dream. Time spins everything into circles - Memory, mistakes, forgiveness, light. How many words connect us to humankind? Too many to count. Each word a world, Each world a link, In the chain we carry --or become. We walk through life, Pulling this chain beside us - Some...
Read more

The Lived Body

-
Image
  "I walk the line my senses weave, With eyes unlit, yet still believe. Each step a truth I cannot see, Yet always was, and always me." In this dance of daily life I stride, A silent compass set inside. With every step, a truth I find, A quiet knowing in my mind. The ground beneath—a pulse, a beat, A wordless whisper to my feet. My limbs awake, my muscles sing, Each motion born on hidden string. Without a glance, I sense the way, The arc, the tilt, my body’s sway. My joints keep watch through dark and light, A silent story in the night. The weight I bear, the breath I take, Each move a choice, each choice awake. My body is the eye that sees The wind’s soft hand in bending trees. I need no sight to walk the line; The space I hold is wholly mine. My hands will trace the cheek’s warm curve, My feet recall where they must swerve. The roads I’ve walked, the turns I’ve known, Are etched in muscle, nerve, and bone. I walk the line, I feel the flow, The muscle’s thread, the tendon’s ...
Read more

My Eternal Poem

-
Image
  Born from the chaos where silence screams, A poem forged in pain and dreams, Madness echoes, yet it burns- A fire of love that never turns. I stand beside the broken, the still, Melt into struggles, bend but don’t break, An ornament for those who’ve lost their way, A silent strength they cannot fake. Like a mother’s warmth in the coldest night, Holding fears, igniting light- Walking with the trembling soul, Making broken pieces whole. This is the voice of the woman who breathes life- Who teaches love’s the blood that runs deep, Colors relationships, paints the truth, Extends a soft finger;shatters the cage of gloom. My poem is nectar for the misguided, A torch for the lost, a promise unbroken- Guided by duty, fueled by compassion, A steady flame of unwavering passion. It believes in the good beneath the scars, Stands tall, sincere;resistant to the dark, Always dear, unshakably true- My love, my eternal, unbreakable you.
Read more

The Lion of the Ring – A Tribute to The Great Gama

-
Image
In mud-stained pits beneath the sun, Where battles of will and muscle are won, A titan rose from Punjab’s pride, With steely gaze and thunder stride. From humble earth, his legend sown, A spirit forged, uniquely grown. Ghulam Muhammad was his name, But “Gama the Great” became his flame. A boy of strength, a man of might, Who never lost a single fight. No challenge too grand, no foe too tall, He answered determination's call. Like a mountain unmoved in stormy breath, He stared down fear and danced with death. From court to court, they heard the tale, Of warriors bested, strong men pale. He faced the giants, one by one, And left a legacy bravely spun. For courage blooms where doubts retreat, And victory follows tireless feet. He struck like lightning, swift and clean, With balance sharp as a blade unseen. No boast, no crown, no scripted tale— Just grinding years and iron scale. Each muscle earned, each triumph forged, A silent promise, deeply gorged. This is the path of t...
Read more

Between the Flame and Shadow

-
Image
I stand where light and shadow meet, Where kindness walks and villains greet. A silent eye, a mind unbound, In echoes deep, I hear the sound. I see a hand, so soft, extend— No motive clear, no aim to mend. A smile that heals, though none may know If heart or habit made it so. I watch the thought that darkly grows, Fed not by evil, but by woes. A wound ignored, a voice unheard, Twists love into a sharper word. Kindness—pure or planned with grace— May bloom or wilt in time and place. Its touch, divine or unaware, Can soothe the soul or miss the care. Yet shadow too, though born of pain, Speaks truths the world would not explain. The villain's wrath, not always vile— Sometimes it walks where angels smile. A gift that’s scorned may turn to dust, A broken heart may learn distrust. And yet the flame, despite the rain, Still rises softly through the strain. Not every kindness strikes its mark, Not every shadow hides the dark. Some deeds are done with no intent, Some harms by c...
Read more

A Pool of Flame

-
Image
  Under the soft glow of moonlight, we slipped through the quiet gate. The night, a velvet hush, draped over naked shoulders, warm and late, embracing our shared fate. Stars danced across the water’s skin, twinkling secrets in the dark, a silent, knowing plea. The sky, a tapestry of silver threads, finely spun, matched the fire your touch ignited in me. A whisper of air, cool and light, brushed our skin, carrying chlorine, lust, and endless night. Alone at the pool, the world asleep, lost in dreams, our bodies bathed in the moon's tender, silver light. You dipped your toes, a playful gesture, and turned to smile, your eyes a dare, a silent question I couldn't resist. Then with a joyful splash, you pulled me into the cool embrace, and met me with a soft, teasing kiss. The water clung like liquid silk, a second skin, our limbs entangled, slow and gloriously free. Your hands explored in playful swirls, a lover's dance, beneath the moon’s approving, watchful gleam. Laughter tur...
Read more