Skip to main content

Featured

Midnight confessions

At midnight hearts begin to speak, The strong grow fragile, lost, and weak. The silence opens every door, To hidden truths we can’t ignore. Midnight confessions softly fall, Like shadows dancing on the wall. The words we hide through all the day, Find moonlit courage on their way. “I miss you” sounds much more sincere, When only stars are left to hear. And broken souls stop wearing masks, Beneath the night that never asks. Perhaps the dark was always kind, A place where truth could breathe and shine. For hearts speak loudest after scars, In whispered talks beneath the stars.
Post a Comment
Read more

The Painter

In silence he painted her gentle light,
each stroke a whisper, soft and white.
But somewhere between the canvas and skin,
his heart stepped out—and pulled her in.

The brush stood still, the world grew thin,
no line could hold what lived within.
So he leaned closer, forgot the art—
and kissed the painting of his heart.

And in that kiss, the colors bled,
from living lips to what he’d said.
No frame, no line could keep apart—
the art he made, and his own heart.
Email Post

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular Posts