Poetry

* * *

There, in the endless life problems

Where time is a bird and each day feels a year,

You’ll wake — though still trapped in the maze and the columns —

To sleep... well, you might — if luck hovers near.

In the world where betrayal and lust are so common,

You cannot just live, not pretending it’s right,

When the age has been shaped by the cold and the solemn,

By people forever entangled in night.

But hold on — and know there are others,

Who'll always understand what you say.

It’s fate that decided — through storms and through shudders —

Our life rushes past like swift waters away.

One day you will see hope’s bright glimmer,

It will sparkle above every door,

You’ll know — life will not be the same as it shimmered,

It will shine even brighter than dreams ever wore.

* * *

Balling up the wrongs of distant years,

You stand amid the shards of shattered light.

Declaring war and mourning through your tears,

As fury veils your reason, blinding sight.

Forgetting all the joy and warmth you knew,

You question what you ever did so wrong.

With hate that screams in silence piercing through,

You feel your life was one deceiving song.

The minutes stretch like years in dark parade,

As if eternity has passed since then.

But stepping back from all the hurt you’ve made,

You start to grow immune to pain again.

And then you see how small it truly seems

Within life’s vast and tranquil, endless sea.

Now gunfire cannot wake you from your dreams,

And wounds no longer touch your soul’s decree.

* * *

Where madness meets the edge of wild delusion,

Beneath a cloud that senses love so deep,

There’s born of heart and chaos a conclusion—

Great art, the kind we treasure and we keep.

So brilliant, timeless, vibrant in expression!

It stirs dilemmas tangled in our fate.

It brings a fateful, sudden resurrection—

A force that lifts the soul and makes it great.

In harmony with all that stands around,

It fills the world with presence, light, and grace.

Its touch transforms the silence and the sound,

And time itself it shapes, defines, and frames.

It carries feeling through the strings of ages,

Through things that help us live and understand.

And though the world may storm in endless stages,

This voice no force on Earth can ever strand.

* * *

You know that happiness is in the little things:

In a smile, in feelings, in a moment full of light,

But not in empty tales that fantasy oft brings,

Then vanish softly, lost in silent night.

It hides within the glow that candles cast,

In seconds filled with wonder, pure and true,

In dreamy nights where love once held us fast,

Like verses only tenderness could view.

It sparkles in a little child's bright eyes,

The ones you gaze at, full of love and care.

It rests within the sun that softly shines,

And brings its light and wonder everywhere.

* * *

In silence of a never-ending scream,

Buried beneath a sea of endless lies,

You seek at least a flicker or a gleam—

A soul once lost in problems’ darkened skies.

You whisper to yourself with dull persistence

That all of this is vanity and dust.

Yet trapped inside a moment with no distance,

You start anew—because you feel you must.

You search again for paths to solve the pain,

You find—and suddenly the world is still.

Without disturbing atoms in your chain,

You live. And start anew by force of will.

* * *

All threads affected,

Our thoughts, like fleeting moments, fly,

Tell me, how did we survive,

In a world where new times lie?

In us, the reflection of reality,

Closely weaves with shadow’s thread,

A new, harsh normality,

All forgotten, left for dead.

Once more, we hide our revelations,

From a world where chaos is known,

We survived, despite all temptations,

While new customs over us are thrown.

We survived, despite all doubt,

The future calling, beckoning bright,

Now we carry our burdens out,

And know our present, clear in sight.

* * *

Why do we want to grow up? Why?

What’s the rush? What’s the gain in the striving?

Are we scared someone might soon imply:

“A childlike soul is hardly surviving?”

We forbid all the small, simple joys,

Call them foolish, absurd, immature.

But the children, with laughter and noise,

Race through life with intentions so pure.

We’re ashamed to let souls be revealed,

Hide our youthfulness deep under duty.

Life is chores, with emotions concealed,

Gone the lightness, the play and the beauty.

Children live without programs or plans,

Give their love without fear or condition.

No dramatic or guarded demands,

Just a heart full of clear intuition.

With clean hearts, they live in the now,

Face each moment with fearless conviction,

Never shamed by a raised voice or brow,

Not controlled by the world’s contradiction.

Yet we’re rushing through seconds and days,

As if silence would mean we are wasting—

Never stopping to question our maze,

Or the chaos we keep on embracing.

We seek purpose in titles and roles,

Wear our duties like medals with pride,

Hide the child deep inside of our souls,

Let our fears in the silence reside.

We are scared to be judged or betrayed

For a heart that is open and tender.

So we build up a wall, well-arrayed,

With a locked door we dare not surrender.

Who are we trying so hard to impress?

What’s the point of this prideful endeavor?

Are we scared that someone might express:

“Well, that’s quite the odd wonder—how clever!”

But such words come from hearts that are closed,

Those who fear their own soul’s gentle calling,

They forbid what they’ve never exposed,

And deny others too from recalling.

They are scared to unite, to align

All the wisdom with childlike emotion—

Yet together they sing and combine

Into music as deep as the ocean.

So don’t fear to remain as a child,

Keep the youth in your soul ever living.

Stay with those who are gentle and mild,

Who will love you for all you are giving.

* * *

When you go to bed, in the emptiness of despair,

You try to find your fleeting way,

And just before sleep, as if by chance, there,

Thoughts come, making it hard to stay.

You think: once, in the vastness of creation,

In mere seconds, the world was born,

In which you now live, full of frustration,

Aware of its injustices, you mourn.

Trying to grasp the essence of it all,

And calmly assess this dreadful sight,

You find excuses for the words that call,

But your mind refuses to hold them tight.

Not understanding the things in the media,

That split the world on right and wrong,

Without realizing, they create hysteria,

News comes from headquarters, all along.

You cast aside the news they impose,

And with clear mind, you try to see,

How people, with obedience, lose their prose,

Their honor and dignity, left to be.

And not finding reason in these explanations,

You stop worrying about it, letting go.

And simply think about your own vocation,

Exhale, and fall asleep in peaceful flow.

* * *

In the void of a second's silence

A whole storming ocean lies concealed.

That second hides reproach and defiance,

Your true opinion, once unrevealed.

Or in a child’s significant discussion,

After an hour spent correcting the flaw,

You’ll breathe out gently, without any confusion,

And with a smile, share it all once more.

Even facing misunderstanding's fire,

When you repeat your fervent lore,

In the silent second of rising ire,

You’ll grasp the smallness of the war.

Or when you're caught in a dispute,

With your beloved one by your side,

You suddenly realize you're right! But soon,

You’ll step back, with a sly look, and hide.

And in a moment of deep burnout’s sway,

When life plays a minor, a lump in your throat,

You’ll hide the tears, and silence will stay,

Revealing that sorrow’s illusion afloat.

A second’s pause holds treasures untold,

Its meaning immense, its depth profound!

That silence, tender, brave and bold,

Lets the soul’s true cry resound.

* * *

I see a person in a human,

Without embellishment, without disguise.

In them, life flows through the century's lumen,

Hidden from the outsider's eyes.

I see the flaws and imperfections,

Within which the soul is concealed.

At times, the person hides them with reflections,

To avoid any threats they might yield.

So he hides from his own reality,

Trying to shield himself from scars.

He takes on his mask of ideality,

And wears it, keeping his truth afar.

Showing false emotions, he goes,

Wandering the world, silently grieving.

Not happy, but approved by the flows,

Living without truly believing.

Unable to grasp his own meaning,

To accept himselves as he are.

He follows the stream, so intervening,

Afraid to show his truth, so far.

To accept not only the good inside,

But also the flaws we all possess,

You know, sometimes it's hard to confide,

But this is the challenge we must address.

For within this lies the deeper sense,

Of how we can live our lives, indeed.

To pretend with a bitter face, so tense,

Or accept ourselves and truly succeed.

* * *

Covered with a blanket of deception,

We hide from all of life's dismay.

It’s easier to skip correction,

And whine — why fix yourself, anyway?

When strong distinctions come to view,

We search for reasons, weak or grand.

We find them! Proud and bold, it's true,

And live in lies we understand.

You know the truth can sting the eyes,

It shatters peace and gnaws the soul.

But how to silence all the cries?

Blame others — that will make you whole!

Well, how admit that you were wrong,

That life itself had gone astray?

Rethink it all? Grow brave and strong?

No, better shout and blame away!

And while you blame the world, not you,

For every wound, for the whole range

You’ll miss the truth — so simple, true:

The world won’t change — you have to change!  

* * *

Of course, it’s better done tomorrow,

Today, there’s simply no time to begin!

Yes, it’s important, you know, yet sorrow

Finds a hundred tasks that must take the win.

And tomorrow brings more excuses, too,

And reasons new to delay and refrain.

This overwhelming urge to not pursue—

To let a wasted life become your chain.

You know how crucial this one thing must be,

How it could change the course of all you see.

Tomorrow’s plans will feel so calm and free,

You’ll think that guilt has no authority.

Tomorrow’s trap will stop you once again,

A hundred useless tasks will block your way.

The years will pass, and still, you’ll play this game,

Not knowing how the age has stolen your day.

After decades spent in endless disarray,

You’ll choose to blame the world for all your strife.

And from your throne of idle, wasted days,

You’ll teach the others how to live their life.

* * *

How they write in books and film in movies

Of love that’s bright, romantic, deep and true —

It happens so in life, not just in stories,

But there’s one thing you must remember too:

In such a love, don’t act with selfish blindness,

Don’t fight for pride or play a bitter game.

No grand displays that mask a lack of kindness,

No tricks, no lies, no need to shift the blame.

There’s no excuse for lies or violations,

No place for cruelty, betrayal, or disguise.

It’s built on trust and true communication,

Where both hold each other’s feelings as a prize.

It stands on care and mutual decisions,

Compromise, where two hearts beat as one.

Where side by side, with matching shared visions,

They paint their perfect life, the two begun.

They share the joy, the sunlight and the laughter,

And stand through storms, the heavy weight of fate.

They carry burdens not just in the chapter,

But in the days they live and navigate.

In love like this, don’t only be admired —

You must give love with heart and soul and breath.

With one shared air, one path that’s both inspired,

You carry all its weight through life and death.

And if one day you dare with heart unguarded

To meet the one who mirrors all you see,

Then others will, with open eyes, have started

To say, “A perfect love story, that must be!”

* * *

In empty tales of love’s forgotten string,

So senseless, lacking essence, heart, or goal,

Lie causes that, though voiceless, sharply sting—

They stir a chilling tremor in the soul.

It happens that in verses, sharp and tight,

Where every syllable must bear its role,

Each sound is shaped to pierce with pointed might—

Yet somehow fails to touch your heart as whole.

So how to judge what’s vital in this sphere?

We differ—all with tastes uniquely spun.

One finds delight in speech that's rich, unclear,

Another seeks the plain, the honest one.   

* * *

Woven from a thousand shifting feelings,

A storm of contradictions in her mind,

A fragile soul with strontium’s own dealings—

Such is a woman: powerful, refined.

Woven out of veils, so thin, transparent,

An exposed nerve that pain may quickly find.

Not even Dalí’s words, the most aberrant,

Could capture all the tremors of her mind.

Woven from a billion points of being,

She feels the truth in every single thread.

Deceived—but only with her own agreeing,

She wears her gift like honor on her head.

Woven from a single ray of hoping,

She never bows to idols or pretense.

She knows one day the world will start re-shaping—

She goes it proud, in fearless confidence.

* * *

I like to create

In a burst of creative bliss,

Forgetting everything, in a state so great,

Living as if on the edge of abyss.

I like to create,

Not thinking of days gone by,

Living in the now, so full of fate,

Seeing only the good that will fly.

I like to create!

In each word that I speak,

A thread can be traced, so great,

With a thought that's hidden, yet unique.

I like to create,

And this is my burden to bear,

To carry through the world, this weight,

A thread of goodness, that time will share.

* * *

It’s easy to be strong among the weak

But try, without jest, to test your might,

Among equals, your power you’ll seek,

And judge yourself clearly, in the light.

It’s easy to be wise among the fools,

And march with pride in the line you lead,

But try, among the wise, to keep your rules,

And defend your point, against the creed!

It’s easy to know just what you're worth,

When you stand among those of your kind,

Only then will you see your true birth,

And how much you truly know of life, aligned!  

* * *

Don’t teach me how to live

Don’t show me what life should feel,

Just let me breathe, love, and forgive,

Believe in magic, and let it heal.

Give me a moment to think of my dreams,

Of hopes buried deep in the weight of my fears.

Through a path lined with flowers, it seems,

I’ll fly like a shadow that quickly disappears.

Maybe, in the late hour of the day,

We’ll understand what silence can say.

When, after a thought, we will see and relay,

How much we’ve spoken in empty dismay.

So let’s pause for a while in stillness,

And not waste time on needless fuss,

Let’s treasure our lives with true fullness,

In this moment we’re gifted, just us.