The Last and Only

-

 



You think you are the first, loud and shown,

But I am the last one and only, alone.

I don’t chase crowns or beg to be seen,

I walk my path-steady, sharp, and clean.

***

No echoes I follow, no shadows I trace,

I carve my own ending, I set my own pace.

Where others seek glory, I simply endure,

Complete in myself-final, certain, and sure.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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

Pilleronam – Childhood Joys

-
Image
  Pitter-patter, raindrops fall, On our windows, hear them call! Karkidakam rains are here, But little hearts leap high with cheer. Unniyappams, golden, sweet, Tiny treats for little feet. We’d sneak one here, one there, Laughing loud without a care. A pookkalam, round and bright, Welcomes us with colors light. A flower today, tomorrow two, Till twenty-eight colors greet our view We’d dash through puddles, splash and play, Chasing friends along the way. The swing would creak, the oonjal sway, Up and down, we’d laugh all day. The tailor’s yard seemed far and wide, Yet Onakodi made hearts swell with pride. Stories told by voices dear, Of Maveli’s kingdom, elephants, and cheer By riverside, we’d run and sing, Our Onappattu welcoming spring. For vallam kali practice near, Our little boats would race and steer. Thithithaara, thithi thai,thai thai thaka thom Splashes danced beneath the sky. Cheers and laughter filled the air, As tiny boats went here and there Oh, Pilleronam, soft and sma...
Read more

The Two Secret Chambers of Her Heart

-
Image
  Within her chest lie two quiet rooms, Unseen by healers, uncharted moons, One guarded by light, where hopes reside, The other shrouded in shadowed tide.  She dons her shining guise at dawn, A smile that calms, a grace that's drawn, Laughter bright, effortless, free, Moving through time with poised esprit.  The world perceives her radiant flame, A lantern glowing, unaware of pain, They lean on warmth she softly gives, A well of kindness that forever lives.  But in the silence, she retreats, Where truth and stillness softly meet, Unmasking pain she seldom shows, In her own sanctuary, softly grows.  Her tears, like rain, unbidden fall, Washing regret and pain’s cruel call, Memories carved deep in bone, Heavy stones she bears alone.  Scarred by hunger, rejection’s sting, Humiliation’s cruel wing, Hope a distant, fading land, Struggles to understand her stand.  Yet flickering in the dark’s embrace, A stubborn spark, a sacred grace, Scripture held, a guidi...
Read more

The Fivefold Snare

-
Image
  In the forest's hush, a deer did stray, Charmed by music, led astray. A gentle sound, a lilting tune— It danced beneath the dying moon. Yet beauty sang its final breath, And lured the beast to silent death. The elephant, in jungle deep, Sought pleasure's touch and soothing sleep. A silken noose, a subtle feel— What seemed like love became a deal. It trusted what the senses gave, And walked with grace into its grave. A moth beheld the fire’s gleam, Mistaking flame for daylight’s dream. "O shining jewel," it cried in glee, "And thus, to light, I offer me." But truth was not in what it saw— Just beauty’s mask, with fatal flaw. The fish, enticed by taste so sweet, Rushed to the bait it longed to eat. A fleeting joy, a hungry bite— Then hook and line snuffed out its light. For what we crave, when unrestrained, Can turn to chains, so finely chained. The bee, drawn close to scents divine, Collected gold in endless line. But hands unseen, with stealth and might, S...
Read more

Wind and the Beloved Fire

-
Image
The wind, a saintly breath, a spirit free, Like a patient sage, it roams the land. It holds no claim, no desperate plea, Just quiet grace held in an open hand. Then, from the ash, a truth begins to bloom: The holy fire, a burning, restless light. A captive yearning to escape its room, It fights its way through long and sleepless night. The wind, instead of dousing, draws in close, And whispers truths the fire's heart can hear.  A gentle guide who knows the path he chose, He fans the flame to burn away its fear. They twist as one, a dance both fierce and deep, A love that asks no less than everything. Like rivers merging from a mountain steep, They rise as one on wild and sacred wing. The fire wails through the hollowed, aching dark, A child crying for a long-lost name, But the wind, with kindness, guards the fragile spark, And gives the pain permission to remain. The fire burns through lies we swore were true, Like letters we kept but never dared to read- Old memories, ...
Read more

In Light, In Rain- Still We Learn

-
Image
  From the hush of the dark, a quiet grace unfurls, The light's gentle story, in a world that swirls. This contrast we learn, as shadows take flight, Revealing the beauty inherent in light. Then sunlight awakens a deep inner call, For the soothing embrace when soft raindrops fall. Through moments of pain, a new yearning takes hold, For the calm that descends, a story untold. When sorrow arrives, a guide we embrace, To seek the true heart in time and in space, To gather what's real, what time can't destroy, And anchor our spirits in enduring joy. For lessons keep flowing, a tide ever near, With each step we venture, new vistas appear. Like seasons that turn, in their cyclical grace, We learn and release, finding wisdom's embrace. As clouds drift in memory, some truths fade away, Yet others remain, to brighten our day. Through whispers of silence, through vibrant refrains, Together we journey, through sunshine and rains. Bound by this learning, this life-long design, In s...
Read more

Palette of the Living Soul: An Unveiling

-
Image
In morning light, a mirror stares, A quiet moment, unspoken prayers. The make-up kit a humble chest, Of colors worn upon the breast. Each brush a wand, each shade a dream, A line of courage, a glowing gleam. It paints not just the lips or eyes, But hides the ache the heart denies. Like an artist's touch on canvas wide, It molds the self we hold inside. The foundation smooths, a steady base, For burdens silently embraced. Like childhood dreams, a hopeful space, Or strength to meet the world's harsh face. Concealer hides the weary trace, Of sleepless nights, or moments' chase. The hidden tears, the quiet strain, A woman's resilience through sun and rain. A dab of blush, a veil of grace, A world reflected on the face. Where pain might dance with quiet cheer, And hope is drawn in eyeliner. It isn’t vain,it’s armor bright, For battles faced from day to night. A canvas for the self to show What lies within, what we don't know. Eyeshadows shift, like moods that...
Read more

The Double-Edged Coin of Being

-
Image
  I see the coin, eternally spun, A truth in every rising sun. Not just the metal, hard and cold, But stories in its facets told. One face, a shimmer, bright and fair, The public persona, beyond compare. The other, shadowed, etched with lines, Where hidden motive truly shines. This isn't just a trait, unique and strange, It's woven through life's daily range. For them, the women, it's a learned art, A double chamber in the heart. The profit whispers: "Smile and yield, Keep private truths impeccably sealed. Nod softly, listen, play the part, And watch your social climb take start. Gain access, influence, a gentle sway, A quiet power, day by day." It's in the roles we're taught to fill, The silent strength, the iron will Behind a gaze that’s soft and kind, A sharp assessment of mankind. These masks protect, they often aid, In battles silently arrayed. Yet, oh, the loss that softly bleeds! A garden choked by poisoned seeds. The genuine bond that can't...
Read more

The Garden of Love and Care (Poem for Kids )

-
Image
In a garden bright and new, Lived a rose and marigold too, They loved to sway and dance all day, In the sunshine’s warm, gentle ray.   They talked and laughed beneath the sun, Sharing joy and having fun, But one sad day, dark clouds appeared, Poison rain that made them fear.   The pesticides fell from the sky, Turning bright petals sad and shy, The marigold’s gold started to fade, Her lovely scent began to fade.   The black butterfly fluttered near, Worried and full of care, He wanted to help his friends so dear, But pesticides are tricky to bear.   He circled slow and gently, Fanning clean, fresh air carefully, He whispered softly in the breeze, “Love and patience can help us,” please.   The rose said, “We must be smart, Protect each other with our heart, Sometimes we need to be still, And wait for kindness, love, and will.”   The marigold felt strength inside, With love and friends there by her side, She knew that she would b...
Read more

He Isn’t Broken—He Is Healing

-
Image
He Wasn't Crazy—He Was Deeply Wounded He wasn't crazy; he was deeply wounded. He carried a silent storm, hidden in the corners of rooms where he should have been safe, nurtured, and loved. He learned to survive in a world where love felt more like war than sanctuary, where every word was a weapon, every touch uncertain. He wasn't irrational or unhinged— he bore the weight of pain never acknowledged, never apologized for. The kind of pain that shatters truth, makes you question your reality because someone else demanded control of it. He Wasn't Stupid—He Was Precisely Manipulated He wasn't stupid; he was precisely manipulated. He was twisted and trapped in the web of another's brokenness. He clung to words over patterns because he wanted to believe in love— even when love felt like endurance. He was taught that love meant silent suffering, so he endured the unbearable. He was told his fears were imaginary when they were manifestations of another’s con...
Read more