She was the ocean to my waves,
the melody I long to sing forever.
May her love stretch to the deepest parts of the sea—
boundless, enduring.

She is the face I dream of in our daughter,
the smile I want to bathe in every single day.
Her skin—soft, warm—is the touch I ache to hold.
Her hair, the strands I long to comb,
gleams like freshly paved roads beneath the sun.

Her lips, the ones I yearn to kiss,
fit perfectly with mine,
as if they were made only for me.
And her heart—oh, her heart—
is the one I wish to wrap mine around,
forever and always.

Her love is like a cool breeze on a scorching summer day—
blowing through me,
cooling me,
reviving me,
as I wait for it with open arms.

Her very existence is my reason to live,
the air I breathe,
the spark of my love.

May the moon and stars be a witness to our love—
A love that endures until the dawn of time.
When our hearts intertwine,
like earth and water meeting in perfect harmony.
When the sky leans down,
and the wind kisses its lips.

Let your love stand firm until then—
timeless, endless, and true.

"Come, my love," he told me,
"Let's play the piano and dance."

He extended his hand,
And led me softly to the keys.
We sat together side by side.
Fingers intertwined as we played
Our love song.

The music swirled
Soft, sweet, romantic—
A melody that's shared only by our hearts.
Our toes tapped out the beat.
And then he stood up, dancing in the rhythm.

"Follow me, my darling," he grinned,
"Dance with your beloved."

I took his hand.
We danced there in the room.
Weightless, breathless—
Like walking on cloud nine. Our living room turned into a dance hall,

And the moon, our secret witness.

"Dance with me until the dawn breaks," he whispered,

As the room was filled to overflowing with laughter and love, While the piano kept playing.. "Mommy," tugged a little boy on his mother's coat, "Why is that woman playing piano and dancing in the river?"

As time fades,
so does your memory.
The image of you slips quietly from my mind—
forgotten like a dream after dawn.

The sweet taste of your love
now lingers bitter,
a distant flavor
I no longer crave.

As days pass,
your place in my heart
is slowly taken
by someone new.

They don’t rush in—
they come with one foot at the door,
treading softly,
respecting the remnants of you
left scattered around.

With gentle hands,
they begin to heal.
They bend the broken edges,
cure the cracks,
and piece me back together.

They open the doors of my heart—
doors that resisted,
heavy with your shadow.
But now,
those rooms echo with a different voice.

They clean the corners where your memory hid.
And now,
the space is full of them.

The heart must go on.
The past is lost.
And maybe,
that’s how you stop loving someone—
not by forgetting,
but by making space
for something new
to grow.

I know I left you all alone at a young age,
But… would you ever forgive me?
Up here in heaven, I watch over you—
I share in your joys, your happiness, your success.

As I stand silently watching,
I see how far you’ve come, all on your own.
If only I could ask you,
“Was it hard, Mama?”

You’ve suffered all these years,
Alone—without me by your side.
The people I left you with cared more
For my worldly possessions
Than for your precious heart.

Looking down, I wonder:
Why couldn’t I stay longer?
Why wasn’t I there to see your graduation,
Your first heartbreak—
All the moments a mother is meant to hold.

I won’t get to hold your children in my arms,
But I’ve watched you become everything
I hoped you’d be.

Through the years,
I’ve seen kind-hearted angels help you along the way.
God works in mysterious ways.

And so, I remain—
Watching silently from above,
Cheering you on,
Loving you from a distance.

One day, when we meet again,
I’ll hold you close and never let go.
My poor baby,
You’ve suffered so much.

But don’t worry…
For now, I’ll send some angels on earth
To keep you company
Along the way.

A big man,
muscular and stern,
his face carved with seriousness.
He approaches slowly—
anxiety creeps over you
with every step he takes.

You wonder:
Is he coming to warn me?
Or is he bringing vengeance?

Then, just a foot away,
he speaks—
a rough, rugged voice:
“Hello, my name is Philip.
Nice to meet you.”

And in that moment,
a wave of understanding washes over you.
His voice, though strong,
carries warmth—
a strange familiarity
that sweeps away your fear.

He smiles—
genuinely.
He offers a helping hand,
the kind only a rare soul extends.

A soul that gives 100%
and expects nothing in return.
One who would drop everything for you—
even on his last leg.

A kind, loving friend.
Perhaps a brother in spirit.

His kindness overwhelms your gratitude.
Could you ever repay him?
Not in one lifetime—
not even ten.

Could anyone ever replace him?
Oh, how I wonder.
How did we get so lucky
to encounter such a person?

Ooo, how I wish him nothing but success.
Ooo, how I have prayed for him.
Ooo, how I hope the world isn’t cruel to him.

Let not the world steal his kindness.
Let him never lose that smile,
his sunshine soul,
his beautiful innocence.

May he never break
under the weight of ungrateful hearts.
May he never lose himself
to things he cannot change.

May God protect his purity—
for people like Philip
are once-in-a-lifetime miracles.

She is like summer—
it comes and leaves a lingering warmth in your heart.
But she is trapped in the cage of her own mind,
a cage she sometimes can’t fight her way out of.
She lies still, staring at the ceiling,
wondering what her next move should be.
Sometimes, she wishes she could shout to the world,
tell them how she feels,
but she never does.
The silence around her is deafening.
If only she could spread her wings and fly,
but she’s always stuck,
locked inside her thoughts.
She fills the hearts and minds of others,
but never the one in her own heart—
the one she longs for,
the one that feels just out of reach.
If only she could catch up to her—
the one she dreams of,
the one she waits for.
She sits in silence,
waiting for a sign,
hoping that one day,
the girl she desires will make the first move.
Caught between hope and a lack of confidence,
she waits, longing for the day
when she will fall in love with the one she wants,
when the world will shift,
when her heart will beat in perfect sync with another.
When will she be like summer—
missed and longed for?

Bitter-sweet is the love of parents.
They love us so deeply,
to the point of breaking every bone in their body
just to move mountains for us.

They fight for us—
for the things they never had,
for dreams that once seemed distant,
unattainable,
impossible even.
But to them, the sweetest reward
is seeing their children achieve what they once thought only a myth
what they believed could never be done.

Some parents may say their kids are smart,
but every child knows,
it’s because of their parents
that they’ve come this far.
This dream, so far-fetched for many,
becomes worth reaching for
for the honor of their parents,
to make them proud,
to give them the joy of boasting about their children.

In the eyes of the world,
our parents may seem lazy, poor, or even ignorant
but if the world could only glimpse into their hearts,
it would weep.
For they know so little,
yet they give so much,
doing everything to give us the best.

Treat your parents right,
for they are learning in this world, just as you are.
They may come off as slow or unknowing,
but they are our parents
the ones who love us without asking for anything in return.

Oh, to be loved by someone who wants nothing but our happiness
God made parents second only to Him,
for only parents can love as deeply and unconditionally as He does.

The blue, crystal-clear water came closer and closer
as her body came crashing into the water.
She embraced the cold water
as she sank lower and lower into the depths,
becoming one with the water.

Life’s sweet, like frozen delight,
Melting fast, lost in flight.
Moments slip, vanish in time,
Gone before we climb.

At first glance, he seemed within reach,
but my heart was set on something far beyond.
As he began to warm my heart,
he started to slip away—just out of reach.

From a distance, I could only glance at him,
yearning for a touch, a moment, anything.
He was like shattered glass,
broken by the very poison he kept drinking.

And I—
I wished he would let me heal him,
let my love be the cure his body and soul needed.
But he never wanted it.
He chose the poison over the antidote.

He would rather drown in that endless loop of hopelessness
than reach for the hand that could save him.
Oh, how I wished he would.
Oh, how I wished he would turn and look at me.
Oh, how I could have cured him.

But his little heart watched in silence
as others indulged the poison he craved.
He doubled it. Tripled it.
And slowly, he began to fade.

When our eyes no longer met,
I stood still.
And instead of reaching out again—
I watched.
I let him go.
I let him enjoy the poison he loved more than life itself.

And so, I turned my gaze inward.
He missed my glance.
He felt its absence.
And he wondered why I stopped looking.

But by then—
I was miles away from him and the love he rejected.
I had moved on.
The cure he once refused
became the very poison he could never have again.

He missed his chance.
He regretted it.
Now he’s trapped in that same loop.
Everything he wants is out of reach.

No one spares him a glance.
He is invisible.
Worthless in the eyes of others.

He may never feel the warmth of someone’s gaze again.
Now, he must choose—
to find a new cure,
or a poison that kills more slowly.

“My prince, when will you return?”
“My beloved, I shall return when I have conquered the world.”
“But my prince, when will that be?”
“When you hear the trumpets sounding in the distance, know then—the world is mine.
And I will make you my queen, and I your king.”

“But my prince, why not rule the palace we already have?”
“Why rule a small palace, my love, when I could rule the world?
You deserve to be queen of everything.”

“But...”
“No buts. I must do this—for us.”

“Then, my prince, if you insist,
I pray you live to see the day you crown me as your queen.
May God favor your journey and return you safely to me.”

“My beloved, before I leave, I shall bow to none but you.
No throne, no crown—only you.”
“Then write to me, my prince. Tell me of the world you see.”

And so he left.
At first, letters came—parchments soaked in dreams and dust from distant lands.
But as time passed, the letters slowed.
Then they stopped.

Still, she waited.
Each day, she stood by the window, eyes fixed on the horizon.
Each night, she whispered to the stars.

Until her final breath.

It was then—perhaps in that moment—
That they met again.
In a realm where no wars are waged,
No thrones are chased,
No lovers are left behind.

For though the prince conquered the world,
On his journey back to her,
The Angel of Death met him halfway,
And took him home.

The monster that conquered my father
It comes when me and my brother are asleep
When the house is silent
When our dad comes home.

It attacks our mom while she lays asleep
It doesn’t care if she screams or not.
Heartless.
It keeps at her.

A battle—
The monster versus our mom.
But Mom never fights back.

The monster is strong.
It conquered our whole father.
We hear our mother’s pleas,
But they fall on deaf ears.
The monster only wants vengeance—
To win,
To conquer.

When it comes,
Our mother hides us away.
She’s scared it will come for us too.
She can’t win the battle,
But she still blocks the door
To keep us safe.

When the monster is gone,
Our father sits with us like nothing happened,
Helping our mom with her blue-black skin,
Whispering fake promises
That the monster won’t come back.

She sits there silently,
Wondering
When all this started.

One day,
She couldn’t handle the monster anymore.
She ran away.

The monster turned into a beast,
Hunted her down—
And it ended
In a ******-suicide.

To this day,
My brother and I
Are still scared
The monster might come

My mother is radiant and lovely.
A source of prayer and hope.
An angel in human form
A saint amongst sinners.

Only one of numerous things that she is.
A woman of high caliber, poise, and standard.
She walks with subdued elegance.

Wherever she goes, life follows—
The desert turns to oasis in her path,
Barren land becomes fertile
Simply by being there.

She talks with grace and wisdom.
Able to put anyone in their place
With nothing but her words.

She loves her children very much—
Sewing clothes, cooking their favorite dishes,
Forever generous, never playing favorites,
Kind and just to all persons.

She goes out of her way for everybody.
Expecting little or nothing in return.

Patient and poised
She bears her anger gracefully.
Always choosing reason over reaction.

She moves with logic, Acts with strategy

Handling everything with peace and precision.

Oh God, if I could have one thing— Give me the grace to become like her someday. To my children, To my community, To the world. For she is a precious jewel— And I can only hope to shine Even half as bright.

She rested in her grave,
Wondering—
Had she lived at all?
Was her life full of purpose,
Or had it slipped away slowly?

She had dreamed to travel the world,
To dance beneath alien stars,
But money was always scarce.
And then one day, money wasn't the issue—
Time was.

She had all the wealth she had ever dreamed of,
But time to spend it,
There was none.
She worked away her life,
Not knowing each tick of time
Was the sound of her life slipping away.

Only now, down below,
Did she realize her hours were lost.
Her dreams drowned
In deadlines and spreadsheets.

Her bones whitened.
Her name lost.
The work she gave her life to—
Lost on without a farewell.

She longed to savor success,
To sip it like wine.
But never got the opportunity.

Now, as her soul drifted off to the hereafter,
She could hear laughter, bright and free
Souls recalling their children,
Their journeys, their pets,
The love they gave and received.

She sat quietly among them,
Nothing to say.
Only silence.

He sat alone,
a single rose and a diamond gleaming at his feet,
beside him a woman of rare beauty,
and around him his own island, untouched by time.
Everything he had ever wanted,
everything he once dreamed of,
was now his.

But why did he feel so empty?

The genie had granted his three wishes:
Riches beyond measure.
A stunning princess to call his own.
A paradise to rule in solitude.

Yet he had forgotten the most crucial wish
he had not asked for youth, nor for health,
nor for joy to fill the hollow spaces of his soul.

What good were diamonds
if his bones ached and heart faltered?
What use was the beauty beside him,
if love could not find its way into his tired eyes?
What comfort did the sand bring,
when no footsteps came to share it?

The woman watched him from a distance,
bewitched and puzzled
how could a man have so much
and still look so lost?

And so he sat,
on that golden beach,
surrounded by the glittering results of his desires,
haunted by a twist of fate
and the silence of a wish
poorly spent.

Is this a dream?
I could never imagine you’d want this too.
Oh, how my heart beats in perfect sync with yours.
I’ve dreamed of this moment—
The moment you’d look at me
Like I was everything you prayed for,
Everything you longed for.

My whole existence feels made for you.
Oh, how I love you—
Your kisses, your smile, your love.
Everything about you is simply perfect.

You align with my soul like a missing puzzle piece.
How did I get so lucky to be with a man like you?
You’re perfect in every way.

When you call my name,
You touch not just my heart—but my soul.
My heart flutters when we hold hands.
When even a few minutes pass and I can’t find you,
My body aches, craving your presence.

Your voice echoes in my mind like a song.
And when I look at you, I think of our future—
Our children, with your eyes,
Your nose—the one you think is too big,
But I wouldn’t mind it at all on our kids.

You love everything about me—
My eyes, lips, nose… even my soul.
You find beauty in my insecurities,
And my personality?
That’s just the cherry on top.

This unfamiliar taste in my mouth
the taste of success.
Once, I never thought I’d ever taste it.
I’ve always suffered from a lack of intelligence,
a lack of luck.
Then, suddenly, I keep striking gold,
constantly.

What has changed?
Why am I getting this sudden burst of luck?
What is the reason?
Did I miss something?

This feeling is so strange.
I don’t think I could’ve prepared myself for this moment.
As I stand in front of everyone,
as they congratulate me for my success,
this has never happened to me.

I need to pinch myself
maybe I’m still deep in sleep,
lost in a dream.

I wonder
is this how everyone feels when they taste success?
Meant with self-doubt and confusion,
or do others step into success with certainty,
mentally prepared for it?

I guess my prayers finally worked.
Maybe this is what was meant for me.
It could be…
for sure.

A king may rule a world of followers,
But never a world of thinking minds.
For those who think are not bound—
By crown, by title, or by blind allegiance.
They will not kneel to a fool
Who dares claim kingship over all.

The price of success is so expensive,
that some may never be able to afford it.
It can be sweet, yet so sour—
sweet for those who achieve it,
but bitter for those whose potential remains unrecognized,
whose abilities go unnoticed by themselves.

Success may not be about luck,
but rather pure determination.
Yet, luck has a way of making success flourish,
making it bloom over time.

He was like the rain that cooled my earth
after a long and silent drought.
Raindrops danced on my skin,
filling my oceans and seas,
awakening life from within.

From my soil, grass grew lush, alive, renewed.
He sustained me, brought peace and harmony,
nurturing my lands, moistening my roots.
His love was my shelter from the blazing sun.

And the sun brilliant and ever-watching
stood above us, a witness to his love.
Though its fire could seem harsh,
it played its part
keeping the rhythm, the need,
the bond between us alive.

If only the sun could love as the rain does.
But the moon, gentle and cautious,
shields him from its flame
fearing that love so bright
might burn too fast
or fade too soon.

In the past,
I used to cry at just the thought
that I wouldn’t get to see you—
not even your shadow.

Thoughts of you flooded and plagued my mind,
dragging me to the edge of destruction.
Your body and your mind enchanted me,
crippling my sense of peace.

You never truly cared about me—
not even once.
And yet…
if I had the chance to do it all over again,
I’d still get entangled with you,
even knowing you'd hurt me.

Sometimes,
I wish you hadn’t given me hope.
You should’ve been cold, distant,
mean or condescending.

But no—
you were kind,
sweet,
encouraging.

Even though you never loved me,
you treated me like a human.
And that,
that made me love you even more.

My youth is fading—
the time I have as a young woman is slipping away.
Oh, how I wish I could embrace someone,
at least just once.

The clock ticks, and so do I,
ticking away my youth,
my childbearing years.
The world is so harsh to a young woman,
so unforgiving, so cold.

Oh, how I long for a family—
a place I could return to,
one that welcomes me with open arms,
where I could curl up and forget the weight of the world.
But here I am,
wasting away,
all alone,
on my own.

Maybe love isn't for me.
At least, I wish I could taste it once—
once where it’s patient, where it’s kind,
where it’s not twisted or fleeting,
and we grow old together.
One where we can count each other’s grey hairs,
and even when death is near,
it takes us both,
together.

Bound by soul and heart,
inseparable,
our fates intertwined,
written in the stars for each other.

I sit here, wondering—
is love meant for me?
Or is the time I need to wait still ahead?
Has the one written for me already died,
or is he oceans away, waiting for me in heaven?
Perhaps he’s waiting,
or perhaps I’m falling deeper into madness,
longing for something
I may never have.

Tick. Tick.
The old clock echoed in the quiet room,
Each second slipping away like sand in a broken hourglass.

A boy sat in front of his computer,
Staring, thinking, spiraling—
“What next?”
“What to tackle?”
“How will I ever climb this mountain of work?”

Anxiety wrapped around him like a stormcloud.
He had waited—again—until the night before finals.
Now, all he could do was sit, frozen,
Staring into the abyss of a glowing screen.

What would his parents say if he failed?
What would happen to his future?
He cursed the time he wasted,
The hours lost to distraction and doubt.

No matter how much he tried,
No matter how hard he studied,
He could never reach that elusive 50%.
They said he was one of the hardest workers—
But it never showed.

He sat silently,
Wondering: “Should I try again, or just... stop?”
He opened a movie, just for a break.
The film ended. A voice whispered, “Study.”
He opened his books. Another voice hissed,
“Stop fooling yourself.”

The work grew heavier,
The mountain steeper,
His eyelids heavier.

He lay on his bed,
Plotting how to conquer a semester in one night.

Ooooh, if only he knew.
The exam he feared...
Had already passed.

He was the teacher.
He was the one who wrote the paper.
The mountain he feared... was already behind him.

She was an angel, having descended from heaven,
But suddenly sickness overtook her, and she was in the hospital.
In bed she lay, and she thought,
While time passed by as people passed by.

Those whom she had helped, those whom she had brought up,
Took turns visiting her once, but never more.
She felt used, abandoned,
After having given so much, she had little in return.

Excuses were given, "I'm busy, I'll come later,"
But later never came.
Oh, how she longed for someone, anyone,
To come to her deathbed.

Little did they know,
She was falling into a quiet chasm,
A darkness despair that wrapped her around slowly.
She prayed every night to the Lord,
For her soul to be washed away,
For peace, liberty.

And on one dark evening,
When she whispered a dying prayer to the stars,
The devil heard her prayers
And, with shaking smile, came and took away her soul.

She was gone
And the silence remained on empty halls,
A spectral reminder of love unrequited,
Of an angel who had sunk too low.