There are cries that come
like weather—
loud, sudden,
gone before they finish saying
what needed to be said.

And then there are the others.
The ones that wait for years
to find a home
safe enough
to be heard.

Tonight, it wasn’t just a song
that broke you—

it was the quiet
after the song ended,
the part where someone stayed.

No questions
or fixing.
Just presence,
while you folded
into the sound of your own heart
finally unclenching.

You didn’t cry because you were weak.

You cried because
you were ready
to stop pretending
it didn’t matter.

And the silence that followed
wasn’t empty—
it was full of everything
you never got to say.

So let this be the night
you remember not what shattered,

but who stayed
long enough
to help you gather the pieces.

Lest we forget
Those who served us so,
Now, with heavenly angels,
Alive now, they teach us what we sow,
Shall remain forevermore or wasteless fodder.

We shall not forget them so,
Sacrifice, selflessness, valour undertow,
Remembrance of our heroes,
Provokes us to live now, lives of valour; value.

Before the crows sit
on the scarecrow,
I'll have you in remembrance
the path we used to walk.
I feel as if you are in my
aunt's house, being a symbol
illuminating the house.
When I sit alone, the absence
speaks you are alive, but I
had seen the grave.
I cry my heart out on
the bed, will you ever come back?
If your spirit dwells in our genes,
can you still embrace me in your arms?
Oh, my maternal grandma, I miss
your presence, like the old days,
even if I feel you are here.

Wilderness seasons

There was a time,
Not too long ago,
When I was lost;
No roots, no fruit,
Wandering and shallow.
Further along, I acknowledge,
The riches taught
During that wilderness season:
Plant myself wisely,
And let true wisdom mellow.

Welcoming Mourning

It is quiet because it is morn.
I don't like to look in the mirror
Because of what I see:
I look into death’s eyes
And see my reflection.
I see the death of hopes and dreams
And loved ones, I mourn,
Constantly.

i'll learn every constellation
to remember your eyes

for the flush upon your face
take a picture of the sky
every sunrise

i'll fall asleep in my coffee
just to see you in my dream

please-
please let me see-
please i want to see-

We remember the fallen,
The generation that fought,
That answered the calling,
Giving each generation after the war,
A mind, a voice of a second thought.

We won't remember the fallen,
Of this generation, respect them not,
The answer to the offensive,
Lies and giving each other fake hope,
Who in this generation can scream I will stand on the defensive line,
In War and not on the we are insulted line.

Yes, born 1990, known as a millennial,
I have no respect for most of them,
Even most of the Generation Z.
Respect for the Boomers and Generation Alpha's,
They have a hard life, no Technology,
Educated and well traversed,
Survived and shaped the World, as we know,
With mistake made and learned.
Where the technology age,
Leaves the uneducated and cursed,
Creating and shaping the world into a wasteland,
Mistake are maded and not learning.