Fourlinegraphia

  Rain falls like curtains draped across the glass, A quiet song for those inside to hear. Love wakes like dawn above the morning grass, A tender promise made without a fear. For some, the rain is music on the pane, A silver rhythm falling through the night. For some, the roof gives way beneath the rain, The road erased beneath a sudden tide. For travelers walking out without a coat, The gentle drop can sharpen like a blade. And for the heart that trusts without a coat, A sudden passion leaves the soul betrayed. Perhaps the rain and love are much the same, Entering softly like the evening shade, Arriving with a spark of living flame, Then leaving us alone within the cold. They draw the blossom outward toward the light, And teach the sleeping root to reach anew. Yet frequently, before the buds ignite, They drown the garden in a shaded blue. To one, the storm is cadence on the roof; To one, a ceiling giving way to night. To one, sweet love is anchor, shield, and proof; To one, a lant...

  You called me the melody, yet it was your quiet shore that gave my wild notes a place to land. I sang to the clouds, yes, but only because I felt your silence listening. You were a steady vessel, holding every fragile line before it fell to pieces. If I was the song, you were the air that carried it; if I was the storm, you were the earth below. You drank the heavy skies without asking for a single drop in return. You speak of the rain bird waiting for the storm, but forget that even the bird looks for a twin. Without your wings beside me, the sky is only endless altitude, cold and pathless. I did not teach the tide to rise- it was your unseen gravity that pulled the deep out of me. I did not become the storm alone; it was your emptiness that called the water down. Do not call yourself merely the wind beneath my flight, or the silence between my notes. You are the tonic key on which the whole symphony rests. If my voice trembled, it was only resolving back to your root. If I circ...

  A person enters this world carrying debts, spends a lifetime trying to repay them, and leaves it with some debts forever unpaid. Debt came uninvited into my door, A silent blessing wrapped in war; Fate placed it gently in my hand, To teach me how alone to stand. It was not born of reckless pride, Nor foolish dreams I chose to ride; It was the cost of holding high A life that would not bow or die. The empty stomach owes no gold, The idle heart no burden holds; For those who carry none to feed, No creditor records their need. Then who is debtor, if not I- Who begs for hope beneath the sky? When desperate hands reach out for bread, Fine words are left unsaid instead. Philosophies fall faint and still, Before the urgency of will; For hunger speaks with louder breath Than every polished truth on earth. My wants are countless as the sand That slips unnoticed through the hand; Yet I know well, when all is done, I'll leave this world with carrying none. A handful of dust is all I'll ...

  There is no end to waiting in this life; It stretches far beyond the fading line, Wearing the quiet smile that conquers strife, A gentle spark that makes the darkness shine. Perhaps it is fate’s gentle, sweet deceit, To warm the weary heart when night is deep, With soft rays of tomorrow incomplete, Promising truths the quiet soul can keep. We wait for love, for safety in the cold, For one kind hand to reach across the space, To understand the stories left untold, And wipe the subtle shadows from our face. The thirsty rainbird waits upon the bough, While tiny seeds sleep deep beneath the sand, Trusting a sky they cannot see right now, To bring the rain and blossom on the land. My soul, too, waits for its own hidden birth, To break the stillness of a darkened room; Though ages pass and wander through the earth, Every long night awaits a morning bloom. Our parents waited for us long ago, Before we ever knew or spoke their names; Now in our quiet hours, we seek to know The warmth tha...

  Not every smile is a harbour of peace, nor every curved lip a haven of love. Some gleam like light upon polished steel, a brilliant shield for the storm above. *** They are sharpened slowly, like hidden blades, forged in the dark of a quiet mind, bending their edges with subtle grace to veil the shadows that wait behind. *** I do not fear the loud, hollow laugh; for noise is the currency fools employ. Wisdom walks softly through the dust of time, while silence unmakes what words destroy. *** And so I wait for another dawn, when the mask you wear has fallen away, arriving like morning over the hills, where mercy, not pride, commands the day. *** When your smile returns without its armour, carrying mercy instead of pride, and gentle grace outlives every victory, with nothing left to defend or hide. *** On that day my eyes will gather rain- not for the sorrows we chose to keep, but for the quiet relief of finding a man no longer pretending it never weeps. *** Yet nights still come w...

  I was born from the same dark, tender womb That carried every child into the light, Yet at the third sharp turn into the gloom, My mind abandoned their accepted sight. They drew a narrow map and called it sane, Demanding every spirit trace its lines; Because I wandered through a wilder plain, They crowned my heavy head with tragic signs. The children met my steps with heavy stone, And tore the frayed and thin cloth from my skin; They mocked the fractured world I called my own, And in their cruel joy, I joined within. For laughter is the final, desperate shield A wounded soul will wear before the night, Before it surrenders to the battlefield And remembers how to weep away the light. My wild sobs traveled far beyond my feet; The listening hills gave back my lonely cry. The wind responded down the empty street, Yet human hearts looked on and passed me by. They crossed the road to flee my passing shade, As though a shattered mind could touch their own; It was not madness making them...

  There is nothing left to mark my passing, No name to carve upon enduring stone, No color left to stain the passing wind, No canvas waiting for me to return. The dreamer in me left without farewell, And wandered into forests of deep thought, Where silence grows like ancient, shaded trees And slept beneath the fallen, forgotten leaves. I searched for him through memories and nights, Through dark, quiet corridors of my mind, But only hollow echoes answered back. Time, the quiet poet, wrote his verse on me . The heartbeat of the earth grew soft and slow, As mountains kept what cities soon forgot, And rivers carried away empires' reflections As though their grand existence never was. The sky remained unchanged above our heads, Watching generations arrive in hope, Living with certainty in all they built, Only to depart without explanation. There is no ink to gather new colors, My trembling fingers can no longer guide A gentle brush to believe in beauty, Yet the blank canvas does not ac...

  My life is a map without landmarks, Its lines wandering past where they start, Moving beyond beginnings and ends, Yet I know an unexpected end in my heart. I stand beneath the scorching sun Of endless expectations held so high, As each footprint of my dissolving dreams Fades into the desert's quiet sigh. My deepest dreams ache beyond a mirage- Just close enough to keep me walking on, Yet far enough that I can never touch The distant promise before it is gone. My eyes remain fixed upon the void, Staring into the empty, endless space, While the burning wind steals my silent cry, Sweeping my voice away without a trace. I am a creature born of the desert heat, With a parched throat and weary frame, Wandering between illusion and hope, Searching for rain that remembers my name.

She was never a kingdom, yet they called her one. Not because she wore a crown, but because they dreamed of conquest. They traced invisible borders across the landscape of her body, counting her silence as surrender, mistaking her kindness for an open gate. To some, she was fertile land, a field where they hoped to plant their names, their pride, their legacy, believing love was another form of ownership. They built castles out of promises, raised flags stitched with desire, and wrote laws that praised devotion while quietly demanding obedience. They admired her beauty as kings admire a distant country- not for its songs, its rivers, or its people, but for the glory of possessing it. Yet beneath their maps flowed rivers they could not chart, and beneath their footsteps lay mountains that refused to bow. She learned that a heart is not a throne to be occupied, nor a soul a province to be taxed by another's will. So she gathered the names they had carved upon her, washed them away wi...

  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...

  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...

  The Haunting Search for the Lost **************************** Beneath a sky paved  bruised and heavy stone,   I walk the fragile light rope all alone.   The night may whisper doubts like winter wind,   Through forests where the silent shadows grow.   ***  Phantom weeds that choke the paths below,   I seek the ghosts of those who chose to flight.   Leaving my soul an ocean in the night,   A silent tide that no one dares to know.   *** My inner screen unmakes the dust of years,   I see myself, a child devoid of fears- Before the reel was warped by biting grief,   Like winter frost that kills the budding flower.   *** The bitter cold of loneliness may bite,   Yet in that cold, I find my guiding light.   Some memories decay like rusted steel,   Leaving a hollow ache I cannot heal.   *** While others cut like diamonds in my che...

  The Yoke of Empire ********************* Beneath the shadow of a foreign flag, The heavy chains of silent stories drag. With tired hands and broken dreams they weep, In lonely graves the world forgot to keep. *** Upon the shoulders of the weary man, The master sits to rule his fleeting span. One carries pride, and one must bear the chair, A frozen picture of a world unfair. *** The master wears a coat of shining thread, The servant walks where only shadows tread. Like deep roots trapped beneath a frozen clay, The common people bleed their lives away. *** The hands that built the mighty ocean fleet, Are left to die in dust upon the street. They stand like ancient banyan trees in the gale, Though bent by storms, their spirit will not fail. *** The ruler speaks of law and golden light, But builds his palace in the deepest night. A mother’s tear, an empty, barren field, Are painful truths that power tried to shield. *** The tyrant claims he owns the open sky, Because he trapped a bir...

I remember the days when you were my world, when every moment with you felt like a dream unfurled. Three years of love, two years as a pair, we promised forever, we promised to care. But somewhere along the way, we lost our light, our words became fewer, our hearts filled with fights. We lived under one sky but walked different ways, lost in our silence, lost in our days. I don’t even know when we started to fall, when “us” became distant and love felt so small. We only knew one thing, standing apart- “I can’t live with you and walk my on way” said both of our hearts. So we walked to the court with a decision made, thinking goodbye was the choice we had laid. Yet every time I saw you standing there, the anger was gone, there was something still there. Then one day I asked, “Shall we have some tea?” A simple moment brought back the old me. We sat and talked like we did before, and slowly we opened the forgotten door. We laughed about memories, the silly things we did, the love we once s...