The Hypocrite's Beacon

You stand now, a beacon of progress,
Preaching love, change, and light—
But I remember the time you doused
Every spark I dared ignite.

You speak of growth, of shattered egos,
As if you've been reborn,
Yet once, you tried to crush my spirit,
Dismissing me with scorn.

Now you parade a new love, for all to see,
As if settling for me was your only plea,
Yet I was the one who dared to challenge,
Your spirit low, my truth you’d banish.

In excruciating pain, I cried alone,
While you laughed, as if you’d won the throne,
Blind to my struggle, your rose-coloured shades,
Made me the villain in the games you played.

I was "crazy" then, for questioning you,
Challenging your narrow view,
Now you act like you're enlightened,
When I was always ahead of you.

Your ego died, but not your pride,
You wear it like a crown,
Lecturing me on truths I knew,
The very ones you tore down.

You gaslit me, filled me with doubt,
Called me names that cut too deep,
Now you quote the poets and the sages,
But your soul is still asleep.

Don’t stand there as if you know the way,
When you tried to snuff my flame,
I’ve been rising through the darkness,
While you play a different game.

Your words are empty, rehearsed and clean,
They carry no real weight,
For the one who tried to break my wings,
Cannot guide me to my fate.

~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

Game Of Fire and Ice

Hey Mister, Why won't you play a game of Twister? I promise I won't play coy. Won't you love it if I were your only toy? You can be the Lion in the boardroom, Then make me roar in the bedroom. Let's play the game of fire and ice. You bring the sugar, and I get the spice. I am praying by myself these nights, Drowning my moans when the city sleeps tight. We can play the game of Super Sonic, And then have our own race over some gin and tonic. So find me, like an app can find a phone. No, I won't bring out my Medusa and turn you into stone. I have been getting over my fears, Learned to make my tears into spears. You can take me as you like. We can go until we hear the third strike.

Polished Sins

A suit and tie, that polished smile, Covering up sins stacked mile by mile. They flaunt “new love,” someone else’s child— A ready-made story, perfectly styled. They’ve “levelled up,” or so they preach, But on someone’s pain, they made their reach, With vows of loyalty, words so neat, While another’s screams lie beneath their feet. Oh, they “moved on” to brighter skies, Leaving someone broken, with silent cries. They mount new heights, they shout and boast— Scaling peaks on another's haunted ghost. So smile for the camera, flash your pride, Show off the life that you tried to hide. For we know the truth beneath your gleam— A hollow show, a self-made scheme.

Till You Sing

Some would say men went to war for women like you, But I would still choose war if it meant choosing you. You say you write in amorous lines, But I would let you be the woman of my tribe. You had your adventures Under The Buda Moon, But have you been loved past noon? So I can see you shine like a magical flower, In the quiet warmth of the golden hour. The invisible strings pull at my heart Can I do justice to your name? Caress you right, Till you sing like a Carnatic hymn. Inspired by the author of Under The Buda Moon, Veena Rao

Cruising Alone

Search This Blog