Skip to main content

Death of Me

 


I remember the time I felt love all around,
A warmth in my heart, a joy unbound.
In those sacred moments, I danced with grace,
Closer to God, in a divine embrace.

But then came the shadows, creeping like night,
Swallowing laughter, extinguishing light.
The world I once cherished turned bitter and cold,
Where dreams turned to ashes, and hope felt sold.

Unbearable pain became my only friend,
A relentless darkness, with no means to mend.
I wandered through valleys of sorrow and fear,
Where silence was loud, and no one could hear.

Each breath felt like shackles, each heartbeat a toll,
The death of my spirit, the loss of my soul.
Once vibrant and lively, now hollowed and gray,
In the depths of despair, I slowly decay.

Yet within this abyss, a flicker remains,
A whisper of love that breaks through the chains.
For though I am broken, I still hold the key,
To rise from the ashes and reclaim the “me.”


~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Comments

Popular Posts

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.

Stay Away

Stay away, stay away Keep those hands away Stay away, stay away I am not on display Stay away, stay away I just want my name on the hard black clay Stay away, stay away I am a kid who just wants to play Stay away, stay away All these memories are like a never-ending screenplay ~ Kanika Kaushal ✨ The Luminous Muse

Model Men and Their Modern Myths

  Here come the men who love their pride, With “culture” on speed dial, their mothers beside them. They want a wife who’ll light the lamp, While they scroll through pages of virtual vamp. They call themselves leaders, oh so wise, But sex ed is a topic they just despise. If you ask them about anatomy's flow, They’ll stammer, then boast about paychecks to show. Progressive now, they’ll have you believe, Because daughters study, and daughters leave The home to work—but don’t go too far, Or they’ll pull you right back by some invisible bar. They crave the respect, the honour, the fame, Yet when faced with real talk, they’re quick to shame. These "modern men" with their ancient views— One foot in the past, and the other confused. Oh, fools of entitlement, kings of the mud, With egos so fragile, they’re bound to flood At the slightest nudge of applied insight— They’ll laugh, then pull you out of their sight. So here’s to these men, these leaders so grand, With “values” in one, ...