The Award

-

 


We run and leap and chase the flame,

As seconds sharpen breath and sight;

The crowd stands thrilled and shouts our name,

Their joy erupting in the fight.


On tracks of dust, in rings of light,

In labs where silent hours grow;

On stages dressed in borrowed might,

Where dreams perform what wounds don’t show.


In halls of service, schools, and wards,

Where hands give more than they receive;

True honors rise from broken chords,

From faith the tired still believe.


Yet some awards are built of air,

Bright titles bought, not truly earned;

Applause that masks an empty stare,

With names that history never learned.


They shine, but leave no scar or mark,

No sleepless night, no tested soul;

No walk through doubt, no climb through dark,

No loss that carved a deeper goal.


But real awards are written slow,

On flesh, on time, on silent pain;

They bloom where unseen struggles grow,

And prove that hurt was not in vain.


So understand when crowds depart,

And glitter fades from borrowed fame:

The truest crown you ever start

Is pain transformed to truth and name.


Not every prize deserves a frame-

Some only flatter, then depart;

But those that rise from lived-in pain

Forever live within the heart.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The House Breathes Again

-
Image
The House Breathes Again **************************** Love never entered my life like a storm; It arrived quietly, like rain entering dry soil. No one teaches the heart how to belong- Just as no child is taught how to smile. *** Marriage, I learned, is not merely romance; It is philosophy wearing ordinary clothes. Two imperfect people slowly discovering That companionship matters more than perfection. *** The sages speak of rivers meeting the sea, Losing their names yet not their essence; So too, in marriage, two separate lives Flow toward a shared existence. *** Summer spreads across the city like exhaustion, The sun itself appearing tired of burning; Even the restless winds carry irritation, As though nature too has limits to endurance. *** And then my wife leaves for her parents’ home, Taking the children and their laughter away; Suddenly the walls become philosophers, Teaching me the meaning of emptiness. *** I wake and prepare my own morning tea, Listening to the silence between u...
Read more

Break the cage

-
Image
  Dear daughters, break the rules that taught your wings to fear the sky, You were not born for silent wounds, nor made to live and slowly die. Break the rule that calls it grace to hide your pain and softly bend, A voice inside your trembling chest was born to rise, not just pretend. Break the rule that weighs your worth by vermilion or wedding chains, No sacred thread is greater than the soul that breathes beneath your veins. Break the rule that says your hands were only made to hold the weight, To carry jars of bitter tears and call it your appointed fate. You do not owe a debt of blood to ancestors who chose to stay, Your loyalty belongs to her- the girl you were just yesterday. To free yourself is to go back through every branch of your own tree, And cut the ropes of every ghost who never had the chance to flee. You are not meant to guard forever the comfort of the ones who break you, A home that steals your light away is not a home that deserves you. If love becomes a cage of...
Read more

A Bitter Age

-
Image
Look around! We stopped our warm and gentle grace, And pointed fingers in each face. Cold ambition took the night, While poisoned streets consumed the light. *** A bitter sickness filled the air, And turned all kindness into fear. Compassion slowly came to drown, As hatred spread from town to town. *** Honor became a thing for trade, Like shattered dust that boots degrade. For loud applause and party cries, Men sold their truth and wore disguise. *** Thought itself became a crime, And insults ruled through all the time. From morning’s wound till midnight’s flame, Cruel voices called it all a game. *** Each dawn began with sharpened knives, Each night counted the wounded lives. Debate collapsed in rage and pride, While mercy trembled there outside. *** Look at them! The blinded crowds raised banners high, And searched for faults where good deeds lie. The more sincere a person stood, The more they tore apart the good. *** Decency became a shame, And grace was mocked in hatred’s name. Eac...
Read more

Love After Ashes

-
Image
  Though we had never met, my eyes sought yours, Through roads that rang with sorrow, dust, and pain; Yet still the lamp of hope refused to fade, And love moved onward to the dawn of light. ... They said your beauty rivaled moonlit skies, I wished to see what time had made of you; Your dark braid brushed against your shawl at dusk, And turned my barren nights to songs of spring. ... I was no garden rich with living blooms, But like a ruined fairground after rain; Still scattered stars awakened deep in me, And formed bright parades within my dark heart. ... At every step, the stones became my test, And solitude became my fiercest guide; I learned to walk though both my wings were torn, Till pain itself grew into humming songs. ... Will fate bring roses, or a bed of thorns? I tossed my coin against the winds of time; Though centuries of suns had scorched my flesh, My heart still searched the ashes for new life. ... So let us start with one uncertain glance, No borrowed vows, no grand...
Read more

The Tools

-
Image
  ********** I drew with ash on ancient cave-stone walls, While blood and sweat ran dark through broken palms. I thought that pain alone created art, And wore my wounds like medals on my heart. **** I carved through life with chisel, wood, and stone, Like stubborn kings who starve beside a throne. I called my chains devotion to the craft, While wiser men moved forward strong and fast. **** Then came the men who spoke to light and glass, Whose silver engines worked with lightning fast. They built great worlds before my work began, While I still carved one shadow out by hand. **** I mocked their craft and cursed the tools they used, Like frightened priests whose ancient gods were bruised. “This is not art,” I proudly said with scorn, “Machines make copies where no soul is born.” **** But through the cracks the restless night-wind spoke: “You praise the hammer more than what it broke. You think that suffering itself is wise, While stronger ships already cross the tides.” **** The trut...
Read more

The Steady Choice

-
Image
When the world is hushed and slow,   Your name inside begins to glow.   In quiet moments, soft and bright,   Love’s gentle whisper takes its flight.      It’s not a spark that fades away,   But a warm and steady ray-  A promise kept, a vow renewed,   A choice to love, forever true.      Not just words or fleeting sight,   But choosing you through day and night.   In busy times or peaceful rest,   To hold you close, I do my best.      When sun wakes up or stars appear,   I say again, I hold you near.   With every breath, with all my might,   I choose you still, with pure delight.      Love’s not a moment’s fleeting flame,   But a light that calls your name.   A gentle dance, a steady song,   To love you right where I belong.      Chosen, again and...
Read more

The Paradox of Love

-
Image
  In love’s paradox, our souls entwine, A dance of fire and icy line, Born from contradiction’s embrace, A trembling vessel in fragile grace.   Joy’s flame, ruin’s ash, intertwined, A noble sickness, so divine, A fever that no cure can tame, Burning body, radiant flame.   With you, I breathe, yet suffocate, Without you, I fade, disintegrate, Your presence, both balm and blade, A silent salvation, a noise unmade.   Love’s comfort and its cruel wound, A boundless closeness, a distance loomed, A fire that warms, a fire that devours, A paradox in endless hours.   Some loves redeem, others condemn, A force to shape or break again, Within its pain, our spirits soar, Seeking meaning forevermore.   Illusion’s mask, love’s true face, Bloodless shadows, a hollow space, Between your touch and your absence’ void, My heart in poems is employed.   Love’s end is form, not core, What kills can breathe once more, A cycle spun in endless st...
Read more

Melody of Silent Dreams

-
Image
In shadows where the quiet dwells, A whisper hums, a secret spell. Are you the song my soul has sought, Or a dream the silent night forgot? Your voice, like dawn’s first tender light, Unfurls within the arms of night- A timeless tale in every tone, A fragile hope softly known. You bloom like flowers in spring’s air, A melody beyond compare, A goddess drifting through the skies, Bright presence before wondering eyes. Your laughter flows like silver streams, Through valleys deep of silent dreams, Carving paths where echoes sleep, Awakening hopes the heart would keep. When passion’s scent begins to rise, And starlight burns in lovers’ eyes, You pour your music into time- A sacred raga, pure, sublime. Like winds that carry distant sound, You come and go without a bound, A song that lingers, never gone, A heartbeat’s echo, softly drawn. Your touch, like fire in winter’s cold, Warms the soul, both young and old, A gentle flame that softly yearns, In every breath, your spirit burn...
Read more

Every Night, You Come

-
Image
Every night, you come to me, In dreams where time’s unbound, A whisper from a memory, Where love and loss are found. Your face appears in shadowed light, A smile both warm and sad, A ghost that dances in the night, In moments good and bad. I try to close my weary eyes, To leave you far behind, But still you visit, soft disguise, The echo in my mind. I’m caught between the past and now, Between what was and gone, A silent reason I can't name, That keeps me from your dawn. A heart that breaks but doesn’t bow, I reach, and then I run.
Read more

Son of Scavenger

-
Image
They see the dust that clings, the stain, The shadow of the sewer's pain. They taste the scorn, unsaid, unbent, On paths where my father's sweat was spent. But in this heart, a different beat, Beyond the stench of every street. I am not merely grime, nor dread, But thoughts that dance inside my head. I see the walls you build so high, That mark where "worthy" others lie, And where the "lesser" souls must dwell, A living, breathing, separate hell. But I see threads, where you see none, Of common worth, beneath the sun. Each letter in a borrowed book, A spark that makes the old order shook. My hands, they bear the work of ages, But dreams unfold on unread pages. My name, you whisper, low and deep, A brand you hoped that I would keep. This lineage you deem my cage, Will be the fuel for a brighter stage. For I am seed beneath the stone, A story waiting to be known. A breath that whispers, "We are more," Than what your rigid lines enforce before. And th...
Read more