Шрифт:
The body shrouded in velvet mist,
The sea-wind’s hum, the sunset kissed.
A fragile wave reflects the glass,
Where time and tide shall never pass.
The night holds vigil, stars align,
Each moment whispers, “You are mine.”
A shadow’s dance, a fleeting thread,
The castle lives within my head.
TO DANCE ON THE STARS
“I love to dance. All my childhood, I danced with grace and elegance—classical, waltz, and Latin rhythms that set my spirit free. Even now, when I am weary, only dance can carry me to my world. Beneath the vast sky, I seek not answers but freedom: to dance, to dream, to feel that every step is a triumph over gravity.”
To dance on stars, to feel their glow,
To weave a dream where rivers flow.
To shimmer bright amidst the crowd,
A voice of grace, both strong and proud.
The world unfolds, a canvas vast,
Awaiting rhythm, sure and fast.
The winds may whisper, “no, you can’t,”
But destiny cries, “you shall enchant!”
To be as air, unbound, supreme,
To rise above life’s harsh extreme.
To love, to lead, to stand, to dare,
To dance my way through light and air.
I seek the flight, the endless chase,
The night’s embrace, the wild heart’s grace.
To break the walls that hold me tight,
To let in hope, a golden light.
My soul a fire, my words a song,
A lion’s spirit, fierce and strong.
Forever true to dreams I claim,
A queen of life, in dance’s name.
IN THE SEA OF TEARS
“I ran along the shore today, the wind tearing at my hair, the salt stinging my skin. It felt like the ocean was trying to cleanse my grief. For the first time in months, I felt a glimmer of peace. Grief is a tempest, but even in its depths, I found the strength to stay afloat. The stars above reminded me of the light we carry within.”
The sea of tears, an endless expanse,
Draws me into its mournful dance.
Beneath the waves, where silence cries,
I see no ground, no saving skies.
In this abyss, where deserts fail,
The sun’s fierce fire leaves no trail.
Alone I drift, a shadow untamed,
No longer the one by my name reclaimed.
The winds rise up – my heart burns wild,
No longer the meek, no longer the child.
Hands once soft now wield the flame,
Cleansing the scars of grief’s cruel name.
Through waves of sorrow, I reach the stars,
Breaking the chains of ancient bars.
The granite held tears, now turned to stone,
Yet my soul sings – no longer alone.
THE COLD WIND
“When the world sleeps, the poet awakens. It is in the stillness of the night that verses come alive, though they leave the heart heavier than before. There are winds that strip us bare, leaving nothing but truth in their wake. These are the winds that teach us how to stand.”
The cold wind speaks, its voice alone,