youthful
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Ladders Never Touch Mud
The ladder gleams, but never rustsit’s never met the soil. From polished heights, they summon contracted ghosts, specters in suits, hollow hands that sign but never build. Greed wears a tie, apathy seals the deal. We, the handlers, catch the crumbs of their lazy feasttardy briefs, half-baked decks, pixels that scream “we didn’t care.” You never want to call out the rot. You want silence, compliance, a nod that costs us sleep. Are youyou hypocritethe one who preaches excellence while outsourcing mediocrity? They say you’re vile. They whisper bribes. They count the favors you never earned. But a corner of…
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The Passing Breeze and Silent Mountain
There was a time when winter settled in,A mountain stood, untouched by warmth or spring,Content beneath the sky’s indifferent gaze,No need for change, no promise of new days. But then a breeze, soft as a distant hum,Wandered through the valleys, gentle, numb,A fleeting warmth, felt like a whisper through the frost,Not much, but enough to feel and show what had been lost so far. The mountain let the cold begin to melt,Not knowing yet the trick the breeze had dealt…For winds, they never stay, they only pass,Like sunlight flickering on broken glass. Pebbles in a stream, touched once, then left…
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The Mountain’s Whisper – Poem
He says that Mountain never excites him,But he savors the views as he reaches the mountain’s peak.He always says he never love that Mountain,But he feels his best while exploring its thickest terrain,Amidst the echo of murmuring beasts. He says he never falls in love with that Mountain,But he always returns, drawn by an irresistible pull when loneliness knocks at his door.He says he is never meant to be a mountain person,But he always comes back broken,And leaves like a golden vase, whole again,As if that Mountain is his true home. He says he never loves that Mountain,But he cherishes…
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Flickering Flame
Raindrops whisper on my windowpane,Each tear echoed my silent pain.Across the street, a candle’s gentle sway,Teasing shadows, secrets in its play. My heart ignites, an unyielding fire,Seeking sparks in your eyes that never tire.But you? A distant star, aloof and free,Lost in desire’s labyrinth, just like me. Is this life’s cruel jest, our fate to burn?Bright flames in emptiness, thoughts yearn.I watch your play from the shadows afar,A silent spectator, guided by a bizarre. The night holds our breath, rain’s soft refrain,Melancholic melody, our sweet pain.Someday, I’ll unravel this mystery,Tending my flickering flame, a testament to me. Defiance in the…
A Solivagant's Shoes 